


your heartbeat on the high line (once in twenty lifetimes)

by fromiftowhen



Category: Chicago PD (TV), FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: Drunken Flirting, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Phone Calls & Telephones, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 70,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromiftowhen/pseuds/fromiftowhen
Summary: Hailey has to keep reminding herself this change is temporary. A temporary new partner. A temporary new city. NYC is fun, it's new, but it's not home. It’s not permanent. Jay’s calls and texts only remind her of that.Jay, though? He’s not temporary. He’s permanent. He's home. And somehow, the distance only makes that more obvious.OR -- Hailey and Jay learn exactly what absence does when you’re already falling.
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hailey Upton, Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton
Comments: 395
Kudos: 921





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! I'm so excited to start sharing this. It's two friends falling in love from a distance and being brave, and being a little too attached to their cell phones. 
> 
> Rating applies to later chapters. 
> 
> Title from Cardigan by Taylor Swift. 
> 
> Thanks to puckluck28 for reading this and never closing the tab :)
> 
> I'm fromiftowhen on Tumblr, let's be friends!

_“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it sure makes the rest of you lonely.”_

_\-- Charles M. Schulz_

——————————

When her phone rings at a little past 8 at the end of her first Thursday in New York, she's just settling into the plush hotel bed with takeout and reality TV. She barely has to glance at the caller ID before answering. 

“Hi, Jay,” she says, tucking the phone against her shoulder and muting the TV. 

“So tell me more about how you miss me,” he greets her. His voice is tinny through the speaker, and it makes her feel like Chicago is a million miles away. 

“Regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.” 

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, disbelief seeping through the speaker. She can hear the familiar sound of his truck door unlocking in the background. 

“Are you just leaving the district?” 

He's quiet for a moment and she knows it's the engine turning over and the call going to Bluetooth through the truck speakers, the slight reverb she hears when she speaks familiar from a thousand other calls they've shared.

“Yeah. We had to go a few rounds with the guy I told you about the other day. I thought Burgess was gonna jump across the table a couple times.”

She smiles. That little anecdote shouldn't make her miss home more, but after almost a week of by-the-books FBI interviews, she wouldn't mind a little more freedom. 

“You gonna trade up to Kim when I get home? Make me find another partner?” She's not really worried, but she'd be lying if she said the fear hasn't clouded her thoughts a little in the time she's been here. Distance can do weird things. 

His laugh is immediate, but gentle, and she can picture his face so clearly she's almost surprised when she glances to her left and he's not there next to her. 

“You know I don't want anyone else,” he assures her quietly, and the way the words hit her right in the gut makes her stand and set her food aside for the time being. 

“Yeah, it's hard to break in a new partner,” she agrees, because that feels like the safe answer. She wanders over to the window and pulls back the curtain, watching the buzz of pedestrians and traffic down below. 

It's fun, it's new, but it's not home. Jay’s voice in her ear only reminds her of that. 

“No sightseeing tonight?” She's been trying to make the most of her time while she's here, doing touristy things in her free time and letting the Feds show her the locals after work. 

“No, I have to be up early in the morning, some joint-operation calibration session, so I figured I'd just relax.”

“Don't get all Fed on me now, Hailey. _Joint-operation calibration session,”_ he mimics, and she can picture the little teasing grin lighting his features too well. 

She just laughs until he speaks again. 

“I can let you go so you can relax,” he says, and something twists inside her at the way he sounds a little disappointed. 

“No,” she says, probably too quickly. “This is good, this is relaxing.”

His voice comes through clearer now, and she knows he's home, phone pressed to his ear, walking into his apartment. 

“Good,” he whispers. “Tell me more about this tragedy they call pizza.”

She settles in a chair by the window and curls her legs under her, watching the traffic below as she begins to talk, his laughter punctuating her sentences. 

God, she misses home. 

——————————

She wakes up early and drinks a cup of semi-decent hotel coffee while she does her hair and makeup and pulls on a sensible black suit. 

_“Don't get all Fed on me now, Hailey,”_ Jay’s voice comes back to her, and she smiles. They'd talked about pizza, and the FBI’s fancy tech, and a handful of other things until she'd yawned and said she should probably get her beauty sleep. 

His quiet, “don't think that's necessary,” sticks in her mind now as she looks over her tired features, and on a whim, she swipes open her camera and snaps a picture in front of the full-length mirror. 

She pulls up their iMessage conversation, rolling her eyes at the last string of annoyed emojis he'd sent complaining about one of her subpoenas she'd “left him with,” adds the photo, and types out a message before hitting send. 

This too Fed for you?  
  


It's too early here, and an hour earlier back home, so she knows he's still sleeping. She slips the phone in her back pocket and heads out for the day. 

The city is already bustling when she gets out on the street, and the walk is a little longer than she'd normally do, but the weather is mild and it gives her a chance to really see the city. 

She passes what feels like a million coffee shops and taxis and listens to the sounds of countless different languages before she makes it to the office. It almost feels like a full day already, and it's barely started. 

OA greets her at her desk as she’s settling in, and they exchange the same banter she’s had with the rest of his colleagues in the last week -- polite, surface stuff. She was right when she told Jay it's hard to break in a new partner. Turns out, it's near impossible when the partner isn't the one either wish was next to them. 

He's nice, now that she knows every comment isn't a harmful jab, and he's intense in a good, familiar way. Maybe his Ranger training and military precision remind her of her partner as much as her interrogation techniques remind him of his. 

But that's pretty much where the similarities end, and that's okay. This is temporary, and she loves the experience, but she wants as clean a cut as possible when she leaves in a few weeks. 

She wants to go home and start fresh, with whatever knowledge she gathers here as a bonus. 

——————————

His alarm goes off and he groans. It's not any earlier than usual, but his sleep was littered with dreams of a city he's never visited and the shadow of a woman, blonde hair flowing behind her, always popping behind corners or disappearing into crowds right as he'd reach her. 

He swipes the alarm off and sits up, runs a hand down his face. He needs to hit the gym and shower and make it to the district on time. It's his normal routine, but it feels a little foreign with the idea of his workday starting again without Hailey at the desk across from him. 

He unlocks his phone as he heads for the bathroom and opens a waiting text. 

He's not expecting the picture that pops up, her smiling face and blue eyes and blonde hair bright against a black pants suit. She looks the same as always, just like the image of her emblazoned in his mind when his eyes close at night and open in the morning, but a little more official, and he smiles at her caption. 

He'd told her not to get all Fed on him, but he'd really meant _come back, be here, steal my district jacket when your too-thin t-shirt makes you cold during stakeouts._

He blames being half asleep on the message he lets himself send instead of deleting. 

Looks like the beauty sleep worked.   
  


He works out and showers, and if he does a few more reps with heavier weights than usual, or lets himself stand under the hot shower spray a minute longer than normal, it's not because he isn't ready to work another day without Hailey, or because he's trying to think of anything else but her smiling face in a hotel room. 

It's not that at all. 

——————————

There's a tiny part of her that thought, maybe, she'd leave this experience thinking a job with the FBI was the right fit for her. 

It hadn't taken long to realize that tiny part was wrong, and the mandatory 8AM joint-operation meeting only serves to confirm the point, as far as she's concerned. It's paperwork, and statistics, and numbers that have very little to do with getting actual criminals off the streets. 

Her phone buzzes in her jacket pocket a few minutes into the meeting, but she lets it go. She's shoulder to shoulder with OA and Kristen, and she doesn't want to be that person. She can't think of anyone it could be but Jay, though. 

(The fact that there's no one else she _wants_ it to be, well. That buzzes in the back of her mind through the rest of the meeting, drowning out statistics and charts.) 

The meeting ends and she's on her way out into the hallway, her phone already in her hand, when a semi-familiar voice calls her name. 

She turns, and it's like some weird time warp to a different year, a different city. 

Erin Lindsay is standing in front of her, smiling and holding files to her chest. 

“I thought that was you,” Erin says, reaching out to touch her arm in greeting. “Are you one of us now?”

She laughs. “God, no. Just here temporarily, part of the joint operation training program? I'll go home in a few weeks.”

Erin nods, glancing over her shoulder. “You have time for a cup of coffee?”

Hailey glances down the hallway, where OA and Kristen are in the middle of a conversation with a few other people. 

“I can sneak away for a sec, yeah,” she says. 

“C’mon, I know where they keep the good stuff.” She follows Erin down a maze of halls, watching her greet a few people along the way. On the way, she tells Hailey about her position, and how it's not at all what she'd thought it would be, but she loves it. 

They turn into a small employee break room, and Erin hands her a cup of hot coffee as they settle into uncomfortable plastic chairs. 

“Thanks,” she says, taking a sip and immediately regretting it. _“This_ is the good stuff?”

“Good is relative on the government’s dime, I guess,” Erin shrugs. She sets her coffee down and Hailey’s aware she's being examined. “So, home is still Chicago?”

She nods. “Wouldn't know any other way,” she says, and the unopened text message on her phone pops into her mind unprompted. 

“Good,” Erin whispers. “Everything the same? Everyone good? I talk to Voight pretty often, so I heard about Al, and Antonio,” she frowns. 

“Yeah, I mean, good is relative in Chicago too, I guess. But we're all managing.”

Erin nods and wraps her fingers around the mug. Hailey knows what's coming before the words are even out in the open. 

“I don't -- “ she pauses, grimacing, and Hailey feels for her. “How is Jay? _God,_ I don't even know if I'm allowed to ask that.” 

Hailey smiles, and it's partly to put Erin at ease, and partly involuntarily in response to hearing his name, which… feels like something new she should deal with at some point. 

“He's Jay,” she says, because she doesn't really know if Erin has the right to ask the question either. She knows very little about how they left their personal relationship, except that it took Jay a long time to be _Jay_ again. “He's been through it, like we all have, but he's good.”

Erin smiles, but it’s laced with something that looks like regret. “Good.” If she wants more information, she doesn't press, and Hailey's happy to let it be. “Who do they have you partnered with while you're here?”

“OA Zidan,” she says, and she watches Erin turn the name over for a moment, and then she smiles. 

_“Oh._ Really tall, more like a GQ model than an FBI agent?” Hailey laughs. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him. He's a good guy.” She has eyes, she's aware he's gorgeous. But he's not the partner she'd risk it all for. 

“What about you? You good, enjoying your time in the city?”

Hailey nods. “I'm good. It's definitely a change from home, but I'm enjoying the work. It's a nice change of pace temporarily.”

Erin laughs. “Yeah, but you'll be happy to go home. It took me a while to adjust, I know.” Her phone rings, and she glances down at it and frowns. “Ugh, sorry. That's my boss, I've gotta run. But listen, if you have time while you're here and wanna get a drink, call me. It was so nice running into you.” 

Hailey smiles and nods and takes the business card Erin holds out, and just as quickly as she ran into her, Erin’s out of the room in a whirlwind of movement. Hailey just sits for a moment, taking it in. 

She figures maybe she could have prepared for this, somehow. She knew Erin was in New York doing something for the same agency she was being loaned out to, but, well. 

She'd never imagined actually running into her, or the protective edge she'd immediately feel when Jay’s name fell into the mix. 

Her phone buzzes. OA is looking for her. She tosses the coffee and heads out. 


	2. Chapter 2

_“Finally see you are naturally / the one to make it so easy / when you show me the truth.”_

_\-- Joshua Radin (I’d Rather Be With You)_

It's a couple hours later before she even thinks about her phone again, too busy taking down a suspect in the _most_ stereotypical NYC alleyway she could have imagined. 

It buzzes in her pocket as she settles at her desk to start paperwork, and she smiles at the name on the screen. 

It's only when she opens the message from Jay that she sees the earlier one she'd ignored in the morning meeting, and through coffee with Erin. 

Looks like the beauty sleep worked.   
  


You’re busy being important in a suit, so I won't tell you that Ruze, Kev, and I just demolished some deep dish.   
  


The second message just makes her roll her eyes and crave real pizza. 

The first one, though. She pushes back from her desk for a moment and just stares at the ceiling tiles over her head. Somehow, Jay always has a way of surprising her, sneaky little compliments and promises to follow where she goes, comments that she carries with her on the bad days or the days where he's 800 miles away. 

It's a lot. It's too much for the middle of a workday, and probably too much for 800 miles of distance. But she's only human, so she lets herself think about him seeing her picture and smiling, and the slow way his smiles seem to creep into big grins. 

The elevator dings open nearby and shakes her out of her distraction. She takes a moment to text him back and then gets back to work. 

Rude, honestly. Tell Kev and Adam they owe me pizza. You owe me pizza AND beer now, because you should have known better. Talk later?   
  


——————————

“Later” turns out to be as she's walking back to the hotel that night. It's just past dark, and the city is alive with a new kind of energy, people moving in every direction. She has music flowing through her earbuds, but she's barely listening, too caught up in people watching. 

She almost doesn't hear her phone ring, even though it's in her hand, it's so loud around her. When she sees his name on the screen, she smiles automatically, which is apparently now a thing, but something in her stomach sours at what she knows she has to tell him. 

She pulls her earbuds out and answers, his voice coming over the line immediately, like he wasn't expecting her to pick up so quickly. 

“It's Hailey,” she hears him tell someone on the other end of the line, and then, “shut up, bro, go home.”

She clears her throat so he knows she's there, and his voice is closer now, but still not close enough. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Ruze was… being Ruze,” he says, and it's a pretty good explanation, really. “Are you at work? It's loud.” 

“Just left,” she says. “I'm walking back to the hotel.”

He's quiet for a moment, and she imagines he's nodding. “So, how was it being a Fed today? Get any compliments on your suit?”

She smiles, because not counting his text, no one had said a thing about her outfit, and she hadn't expected or wanted them to. “Just one, from this guy I know back home.”

It's quiet for a moment, like he's not positive she's talking about him. She's about to let him off the hook when his voice finds her again. 

“Well, you know what they say about those hometown guys.” In the background, she can hear the familiar sounds of the locker room at the district. She'd assumed he was on his way out to his truck, but the realization that he's still in the building, but on the phone with her already makes her miss him in a rush that takes her by surprise. 

“I don't, actually,” she says. 

“I wasn't actually expecting you to call me on that one,” he laughs. “It's something about them being dangerous.”

She laughs. “Okay, Jay. Pretty sure I can handle him,” she tells him, and the little laugh that gets her feels private, just hers, even surrounded by the crowd of people on the street. 

“You're still at work, right?” She’s not sure how to have this next conversation, except that she's pretty sure she doesn't want him driving a motor vehicle while it happens. 

“Yeah,” he says, “Why? Miss your desk, want a pic?”

She laughs. She does miss her desk and the person who sits across from her. But that's a topic for another time. She sidesteps a couple on the sidewalk and crosses over to the hotel. 

“Hang out there for a sec, okay? I have to tell you something.”

_“Okay,”_ he says, and she can hear the hesitation in his voice. “Leaving me for the Feds, Hailey?”

“You're not getting that lucky, bud,” she says, pressing the up button for the elevator. “Listen. I ran into Erin today.”

There's a pause, and then, “Lindsay?”

“Yeah,” she says as the elevator arrives. “Hang on, I'm getting on the elevator.”

He doesn't say anything for the 10 floors the elevator travels, and she just listens to his even breathing on the phone. She steps off at her floor and shoulders the phone to pull out her keycard. 

“Jay?” 

“Yeah,” he says, but he sounds distracted. 

“You okay? I didn’t want to upset you, but I wasn’t going to keep it from you.”

“I'm glad you told me. I'm just surprised.”

She shoulders the door open and drops her stuff by the door, kicking off her shoes. “I know.” 

“Did she-- how did…” He trails off and she frowns. It's the most personal conversation they've ever had over the phone, and she wants to see his face, which always gives away the emotions his words might not let out. 

She pulls the phone away from her ear as she settles on the bed and taps a few buttons, changing over to a FaceTime call. His face fills the screen a moment later and she smiles. 

“Sorry,” she says, lounging back against the pillows. “I just needed to make sure you were telling me the truth.” 

He smiles slowly, and yeah, she made the right choice. 

“How'd she seem?” He asks, and the words sound like they come easier when he's looking at her. 

“Busy. It was just a quick thing. But she seemed good. She loves her job.”

He nods, and she watches him glance away for a second. When he glances back, he gives her a half-hearted smile. “Good. That's good, she should be happy.”

“She asked about everyone, and you specifically.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. I told her you were good.”

He smiles again, and she feels a little more at ease with this one. “Man, small world.”

She nods, propping the phone on the pillow next to her to take the hair tie out of her hair, shaking it loose. She looks back up at the phone to find Jay watching her quietly. 

“Hailey,” he says quietly. “I don't have feelings for Erin.”

She pauses, watching his face as closely as the small screen will allow. “I didn't think you did.”

“Good. It surprised me, that's all.” He stops, and she watches his mouth figure out the shape of his words. “But she’s not the one I want to come home from New York.”

She almost regrets the FaceTime call now, because there's no way to hide her reaction, how she's pretty sure her mouth drops open just slightly. 

“Yeah, well,” she recovers, “that's good, because I don't think she's planning on it. But _I'm_ counting down the days.”

“Oh, Hailey, I'm sorry. I was talking about my _other_ partner. She's in the city too, you'll probably run into her soon.”

She rolls her eyes, but he just smiles that really sweet, genuine Jay smile that's gotten him out of trouble with her more than once. 

“Whatever,” she says, but the slamming of a locker in the background on his end interrupts anything else she was going to say. 

He glances behind him, and then back to her quickly. “I guess I should go, try to beat the traffic.” 

He sounds reluctant though, and it makes her smile. She doesn't really want to hang up, either. Something about seeing his face makes her a little less homesick and a little more excited about the opportunity she has here. Home isn't going anywhere, she knows. 

“Okay. I'm going to go find some dinner, anyway. Drive safe.” 

“Walk or subway or taxi safe,” he grins. He gives her a little wave and then the call ends. 

——————————

He ends the FaceTime call with Hailey and gathers his stuff, tossing a goodnight over his shoulder to the patrolmen coming off duty into the locker room. He's headed out toward his truck when he stops and reverses direction back toward the stairs.

He buzzes in and makes his way to Hailey’s desk, pulling out her chair and sitting down, tossing his feet up on the desk. She’d yell at him and push his feet off the desk if she was here, and the thought makes him smile as he pulls out his phone to take a picture. He pulls up his messages with Hailey and scrolls back up to her earlier photo for a moment before attaching his own and typing a message.

In case you actually do miss your desk. (I'm counting down the days, too.) 

——————————

Her phone vibrates as she's trying to figure out dinner a couple minutes after she and Jay hang up. 

She swipes open the message and groans. His dirty, heavy steel-toed boots are on her nice, neat desk, and she can't see his face in the picture, but she knows he's smirking. 

You better Lysol my desk.  
  


Indian or Thai food for dinner?  
  


His response is quick, and she smiles. There's something intimate about the way a partner learns your food preferences so thoroughly. 

Thai, You always end up giving me your leftover Indian food, and I'm too far for that.   
  


He has a point. 

True. Go home, Jay.

She pockets her phone and grabs her jacket, slips into her shoes and heads out the door. 

She's waiting for the elevator again when her phone buzzes in her pocket. 

Come home, Hailey.  
  


——————————


	3. Chapter 3

_“I exist in two places, here and where you are.”_

_\-- Margaret Atwood_

21 days.  
  


It's her first full Saturday in the city, and even though she's relatively exhausted from a long week, she can't imagine wasting the day in bed. 

She finally decides to make her way to the Brooklyn Bridge, craving the exercise and the skyline view, the crowd and the energy. She takes her time, meandering through the streets, stopping in stores and reading restaurant menus as she passes by. 

She stops and has coffee and reads through some local events coming up during her time in the city, saving a few ideas for nights after work. 

By the time she sets foot on the bridge a little while later, it’s late morning. The sun warms her skin and she feels awake and energetic. She makes it halfway across before she stops to really take in the view of the skyline in front of her. It’s pretty and intimidating and inspiring, in that specific way that only big cities can be, and it makes her miss home in a real way. 

She takes a few pictures and watches the cars below, the pedestrians next to her, before her phone rings. She doesn’t need to see his name on the screen to know who it is.

“Sleep in this morning?” She asks, because she knows he’d sleep the day away if he didn’t set an alarm. 

“Mhmm,” he says, and he sounds mumbly, sleepy still, and she knows without asking that he’s still in bed. It feels like he’s a safe enough distance away that she can let herself think about his normally perfect hair sleep rumpled, his warm, bare chest, and how he’s barely awake, but still calling her. 

It feels too intimate for a public place, too close to too real to think about when he’s not here. 

“I’m standing on the Brooklyn Bridge,” she says, instead. 

“I know you miss me, Hailey, but c’mon, don’t jump,” he mumbles, the laugh that laces his words deep enough it sends a shiver through her sun-warm body. 

“Shut up,” she laughs. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Good.” It’s warm and sleepy, and she’s going to carry the sound with her all day. 

“It's really beautiful here,” she says, because it _is,_ in that way cities are pretty from a distance, grid streets and tall buildings that make sense and command attention. 

But it's something else too, the sun reflecting off the water and the blue sky, Jay’s quiet, sleepy breathing rumbling against her ear. 

It's not home, but it's the closest she's felt to it in a week, and she doesn't want to leave this spot or hang up the phone. She glances around at the people stopped and walking and biking by. Couples and families and large groups of friends. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, when he doesn't say anything. “I wish you could see this.”

“I can,” he says, and her phone beeps against her ear as he requests a FaceTime call. She digs her earbuds out of her jacket pocket and puts them in so she can actually hear him without the phone to her ear as she accepts the call. 

And then she has a whole new view. 

Because she was right, he's still in bed, his hair rumpled and chest bare. And it's not like she hasn't seen him sleepy, or shirtless, or disheveled before. 

But it's the first time she's seen him sleepy and shirtless and disheveled when she's 800 miles away and missing the idea of home more fiercely than she thought possible. 

And it makes sense now. 

Standing on the Brooklyn Bridge, surrounded by people, looking out over the city -- she'd thought she missed home. And she does, desperately. 

But _home_ isn't Chicago, or the district, or deep dish pizza or the wind. 

_Home_ is Jay, and the way he's looking at her, patient and sleepy and _good,_ while all these things race through her mind. 

“Hailey?” 

She focuses back in, and she's probably blushing. 

“You good?”

She nods. 

She's not, though. 

“Not that you're not a good view, but you wanna show me what you're looking at?”

She turns the camera so he can see the skyline, and focuses her attention on it as well, but mostly so she can get a break from staring at his face. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice loud through her earbuds. “What's that tall building?”

She rolls her eyes. “Wannabe more descriptive?”

“You know, the tall one, with the sides, and all the glass. How can you not tell which one I'm talking about?”

She laughs. He can't possibly know, but it's almost like he can sense she's having some sort of emotional revelation in the middle of a crowd of strangers on the Brooklyn Bridge and he's trying to help her out. 

He's the cause of it, but he's trying to put her at ease. 

“Jay?” She whispers because she's afraid her voice will shake if she tries to speak up. “Shut up and just enjoy the view.”

“Turn the camera back around,” he says. 

She does, and his sleepy grin greets her. 

“Now I can enjoy the view.” 

She glances away but she's smiling when she meets his eyes again. 

“Yeah, me too.”

——————————

She stands on the bridge and lets the warmth from the sun seep into her skin. Jay stays on the phone with her for a while, and they chat some, but mostly she just turns the camera so he can people-watch with her. And it's not the same thing as him being there, at all, but it's nice. 

He has to go get ready for the day after a little while, and he stands to drag a shirt on as he gets out of bed, and she really loves technology for these little glimpses at him while she's away. 

“I'm gonna go,” he says, leaning back into the frame, and it sounds like maybe he doesn't want to as much as she doesn't want him to. 

She nods. “Thanks for going to the Brooklyn Bridge with me.”

He smiles, that slow one that always warns of something sneakily sweet coming. “You know I'd follow you anywhere.”

“Later?” He asks, and it means _let’s talk later,_ not _should we or can we,_ because there's really no question at this point. 

She nods, and he waves, and the screen goes blank. 

She's alone again in a crowd of people, but it feels okay. 

——————————

She wanders around the city for the majority of the rest of Saturday, lets herself stop in little tacky souvenir shops and eat lunch from a street cart and sit and people watch aimlessly. She tries desperately not to think about Jay, shirtless and sleepy and probably warm in bed this morning, picking up the phone to call her before he was even fully awake. 

(She _tries._ She doesn't succeed.)

She's on her way back to the hotel, her feet tired, and feeling relaxed and ready to curl up in bed and maybe nap. 

But her phone rings before she makes it there, and she's only a little disappointed to not see Jay's name on the screen, because it's Kristen’s instead.

When she answers, Kristen invites her out for drinks with some friends in a little while, and she almost, _almost,_ begs off, because she really is tired. But she's only in the city for a short while, and Kristen is funny and sweet, and she wants to make the most of the experience. 

So she agrees and heads back to the hotel to freshen up, with plans to meet at a place a cheap cab fare away in a little while. 

So it won't be Molly's with the usual crew. It won't be Jay pressed shoulder to shoulder with her at a crowded table, or his quiet stare over the lip of a glass. It won't be inside jokes or familiar work gossip. 

But it'll be _fun,_ and that'll be enough. 

——————————


	4. Chapter 4

_“Oh, I could drink a case of you darlin’ / And I would still be on my feet.”_

_\-- Joni Mitchell (A Case of You)_

The bar is crowded when she arrives a while later, but nice, and Kristen’s friends make her feel at ease enough to have a couple beers, and then another. By the time a tray of shots appears at the table, it feels like as good an idea as any. She's not usually one to get drunk, but she's also not usually in a new city with no responsibilities for the next 24 hours, so. 

Her phone rings as she tosses a shot back, and she picks it up but lets it ring in her hand. She doesn't want to be that person who interrupts the conversation to answer the phone when a guy calls. 

“Wait,” Kristen says. “Is that Jay, your partner Jay?” 

She nods. Apparently, she talks about him a lot. 

Kristen leans over to look at her phone screen, where Jay’s face still lights up the screen as the call goes to voicemail. “The guy you get to work with every day looks like _that_ and you're in New York _because?”_

She laughs, running her thumb over his name on the screen. He _does_ look like that, but even better in person. 

“It wasn't voluntary, to be honest. But yeah, he looks like that, I'm fully aware. But come on. You get to look at OA and Jubal all day, so let's not pretend you're suffering,” she laughs, taking the new shot Kristen holds out. 

“To attractive coworkers,” Kristen says, holding up her shot to cheers. 

“And to knowing we can still kick their asses,” she adds, clinking their glasses together before knocking back the shot. 

Her phone lights up with a voicemail from Jay, and she smiles as she lifts the phone to her ear. 

_“Honestly? I'm a little offended.”_ His voice is clear through the speaker, and she smiles as she swipes over to text him. 

Sorry. One of the Feds Invited me for drinks with her friends. Call you later.   
  


Her phone buzzes in her hand almost immediately, and she laughs at his response. 

It's a trap, Hailey. Don't do it.   
  


Have fun.   
  


“Hey, Hailey,” Kristen’s voice pulls her back into the conversation. “So let's hear it. Why’d you become a cop?”

The million-dollar question, the one spurred on by her blonde hair and small frame since the moment she started telling people she was joining the academy. 

But she knows Kristen and her friends are actually interested in the answer. 

“When I was growing up, my family was robbed. After, a cop took me back to the district with her and sat me at her desk. And I just watched her work until she'd caught the guy. It was the first time I'd felt truly safe with an adult in a long time.”

“She sounds like a great cop.”

Hailey smiles. “She's tough. She's my desk sergeant now, actually. She takes no crap, and since I was young I knew that's who I wanted to be.”

Jay was wrong, it definitely isn't a trap. It's fun, and she laughs more than she has in the week she's been here. It's not the shared history of drinks with the unit, and especially not with Jay, but it's nice to get to know new people. 

She has another shot and a beer, and by the time she stands up to head back to the hotel, she's not _drunk,_ really, but she's the closest to it she's been in a while. 

Kristen hugs her and tells her she'll see her on Monday, and then she's standing out on the sidewalk hailing a cab. 

She gives the driver the hotel information and then sits back and watches the lights of the city pass by. She wants to spend a couple hours just getting lost under the bright lights against the dark of the city one night before she goes home, but the tiny part of her that's still sober, and the part of her that's always a cop first knows that tonight isn't the safest choice for that. 

She wants to be huddled under the down comforter, in the hotel, in the dark, talking to a guy from back home. The rush that realization sends through her makes her think it might actually be the more dangerous option. 

She pays the cab driver when he pulls to a stop in front of the building and stands in the fresh air for a moment, just looking up at the lights, before she heads into the lobby and onto the elevator. 

She pulls her phone out and calls Jay as she walks down the hallway to her room, and she can hear the cocky grin on his face as he answers. 

“So I guess the Feds let you go. Not a trap after all.”

She laughs, definitely harder than the comment warrants, and his soft chuckle through the phone makes her want to feel the sound breathed out against her skin, which is. 

Well, the tipsy realization that it’s not a new thought is a lot. 

“Just one Fed, Kristen. She's fun.”

“Fun enough you got a little drunk?” He wants to laugh at her, but she can hear the restraint in his voice. 

“Maybe. What are you, _a cop?”_

“What? No. I'm just some guy from back home. Definitely not a cop.”

“That sounds like something a cop would say,” she says, digging in her pocket for the keycard. She fumbles it onto the floor and sighs dramatically as she picks it up and manages to get the door unlocked. 

“A good cop would ask if you have a plan to get home safely,” he says, quietly. 

She smiles and shoulders the phone so she can pull her boots off. “Getting home requires a plane, which in no way am I capable of operating tonight. But getting back to the hotel, I've already managed that. I'm about to crawl in bed.”

“I'm sorry. _just tonight_ you're not capable of operating a plane? But tomorrow, totally doable?”

“Oh, totally,” she laughs. She bumps against the wall and curses quietly as she works to unbutton her jeans one-handed, and his voice comes over the line. 

“Look, I'm probably going to need proof you're actually in bed, there are all kinds of noises going on over there.”

_“Yes, Officer,”_ she rolls her eyes. “Hang on, I'm changing.” She puts the phone on speaker and sets it down on the bed while she shucks her jeans and pulls her tee off. 

“I wouldn't say no to proof of that, either,” he says, and she laughs long and low. She shrugs on an old comfy tee and leaves her legs bare before climbing into bed and under the covers. 

She grabs the phone and presses a few buttons, and Jay's face appears on the screen. 

“Trust me,” she says, “the phone screen wouldn’t do that proof justice.”

He smirks, slow and a little too tempting for the distance between them. “I'm sure it couldn't.”

She just watches his face for a moment, warmth spreading through her that has very little to do with the tequila she shot and very much to do with the lazy way he's watching her. 

“But see? In bed.” She pans the camera down, over the comforter, over her legs peeking out, even though it's obvious because he hasn't taken his eyes off her. 

“I do see,” he says. It's quiet for a couple moments and she shifts, burrowing into the pillow, propping the phone up on the pillow next to her. 

“Wanna go to sleep?” His voice is quiet. He's on the couch, the low sounds of a game playing on the TV just audible. 

She shakes her head. She doesn't. She's physically tired, happy to be comfortable in bed, but her mind is racing, wide awake. 

“Okay,” he says. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Fun,” she says immediately, and she's struck by the simple fact that even though she walked miles and miles, she didn't really _do_ all that much, and it was still one of the best days she's had in a while. “I ate a hot dog from a street vendor. I'm probably a real New Yorker now.”

“Whoa, Hailey Upton. Don't break my heart,” he laughs, but there's an edge to it she feels even over the miles they're apart. “Can't have two partners leave me for New York, I'll start to think it's me.”

She shakes her head, her hair falling in her face a little. “It's not you.” She brushes it out of the way and watches him shift on the couch, stretching out. “She invited me out for drinks while I'm here. Erin.”

He nods. “You should go, if you want.”

“I don't think so. I like Erin, but it was a little awkward.”

“Because of me.” 

She frowns. His guilt complex is off the charts, and she never wants to inadvertently contribute to it. “Because you're my partner. I like talking about you, and I don't want to share our rela-- _partnership_ with someone who hurt you.” 

“Erin didn’t--” he starts to say, but she shakes her head.

“It’s okay. It’s _not_ okay she hurt you, but it’s okay to admit she did,” she says quietly, but firmly. 

“Always so protective,” he smiles, and thank god he's not focusing on the slip of the tongue she almost had. She'll blame it on the drinks, and not on the way he's looking at her. 

“Yeah, well. It's part of what works.”

He nods, and it's quiet again for a moment. She stretches, splaying her legs out in the bed, and not for the first time recently, she wishes the other side wasn't empty. 

“Jay.” she says, and she's aware that communicating like this, in the dark of a hotel room and in the quiet of his apartment, there's nothing to distract them, no one to interrupt or no work phone to ring. Anything she says will carry weight just from that fact alone. 

He's watching her closely. 

“Earlier today, on the bridge-- “ she starts, but his voice stops her. 

“I wanted to be there. With you.” It’s the liquor coursing through her, it has to be, that causes the shiver that goes through her whole body at his words. 

She bites her lip and nods. “I was gonna say I wished you were.”

“Well,” he smiles, but it's hesitant. “Good.”

“You should be,” she says, and it's impulsive, and the question that crosses his face tells her she can walk it back and it won't be awkward. 

Except, the other side of the bed is cold and empty, and she'd felt something like jealousy twist in her gut at the couples on the bridge earlier, and she doesn't want to feel that, not if there's a chance she doesn't have to. 

“You should be here. Come for the weekend, see the sights. See _me,”_ she says, in a rush of words. 

“I see you right now, Hailey.” If her words surprise him, he's good at hiding it. 

“That's different.”

“I know,” he sighs. It feels like something has shifted, and maybe she should have walked it back, kept that impulse to herself, like she usually does. “You're drunk right now, Hailey. Sleep on it and we'll revisit it sober.”

She nods. It's not the shared excitement she'd wanted, but it's not a no. It's Jay, being calm and smart and protective, all the things that make him the best partner. “Okay. But I'm barely drunk,” she adds, because even though it might not be true, her stubborn side has to win something. 

“Okay,” he whispers, but it's teasing. “I'm gonna go, Ruze and Kev and I are going to the Hawks game tomorrow, so I can’t sleep all day. Get some sleep, okay?” His voice is gentle, and he's watching her carefully. 

She smiles. “You too.” 

“Goodnight, Hailey.”

“Night,” she whispers. The call ends and the screen goes dark, taking the light from the room. 

She rolls over to her back and breathes in and out slowly a few times. It's Jay, and it's her, so she knows nothing is ruined. 

He'd told her they were always gonna be good, and she knows deep down, no matter what else happens, that's true. It's a certainty she'd risk it all on. 

But she feels a little silly for how sure she'd been that he'd jump at the chance to come out here. It's not like it's down the block. 

It's not like she won't be back to him, back home, in three weeks. 

It's not like they're dating.

By necessity, she’s learned not to jump without looking first. She's done it before, and it's never worked out, not when she's really invested in the outcome. 

This feels like jumping, and plummeting, and hoping a specific person catches her while he's falling too, if he's falling at all. 

She knows she trusts Jay with her life. He wouldn't let her fall if he wasn't at least going to try to catch her. She's pretty sure. 

She's sure. 

She's sure she's drunker than she originally realized. Maybe from the liquor. Maybe from his smile in the dark. 

Probably both. 

——————————


	5. Chapter 5

_“But I must admit, I miss you quite terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.”_

_\-- Lemony Snicket_

His alarm goes off the next morning, and he groans. 

Setting an alarm on the weekend should be illegal. 

Setting an alarm and sticking to it the morning after your partner spontaneously, drunkenly, sweetly, tells you to come visit her?

There isn't a word for how illegal it should be. 

He'd slept, but he'd tossed and turned first, and when he'd finally dozed off, he'd dreamt about that same blonde woman eluding him. He'd just been about to catch up with her, suddenly somehow on the edge of a cliff in the middle of the city, when he'd woken up to the alarm. 

He goes for a run to clear his mind. (It doesn't.)

He showers to clear his mind. (It doesn't.)

His phone rings and his mind buzzes a little, clearing slightly. Except it's just Ruzek, seeing if he'll give him a ride to the game. 

“Yeah, dude, of course,” he says, and they set a time and hang up, and before he can stop himself, he's looking at flights from O’Hare to JFK. 

Because he wasn't lying last night. He'd wanted to be on that bridge with her.

He'd settle for being in the same city again, even if it meant a whirlwind trip he's not entirely sure is the type of financially responsible choice he's trying to make lately. 

He's not sure it's the responsible choice at all, really.

Because getting on a plane to visit a woman is the romantic choice, sure. It's the fun one.

It's the potentially life-changing choice, which means it's the scary choice. 

Going to New York feels like going all in. It feels like leaping into something. 

Jay leaps. He always has. He lept into war. And into the CPD. Into bed after bed to Erin. Into pain and fear and slowly back out. 

Leaping into something with Hailey, though. 

It's not something he could leap out of. Not whole, not okay, if it ended poorly, if it ended at all.

He closes the flights app and tries to become one with his couch until he has to head out to get Ruze. 

——————————

When it's almost noon and he's dressed to head out to get Ruze and meet Kev, and he still hasn't heard from Hailey, something twists in his gut. 

It feels like worry. Not for her safety, because she's a fighter. But for how they left things last night, and how, even with him, she can close off that open, vulnerable side of herself so easily. 

He doesn't want that. If he knows anything, he knows he doesn't want them to go backward. 

He unlocks his phone and types out a couple messages before heading out the door. 

20 days.   
  


Gonna need proof of life, Hailey.   
  


His phone rings as he's getting closer to Ruzek’s apartment, and he maybe unintentionally eases his foot off the gas. He answers, and her voice fills the cab of the truck. 

Except it's just a loud groan. 

He laughs quietly. “You good?”

She grumbles and he smiles. 

“I swear to god I didn't drink enough to feel like this,” she says, her voice rough around the edges. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, and he tries to make it sound as sympathetic as he feels, but he can almost hear her eye roll at his laughter. 

“Did you eat anything besides a street cart hot dog yesterday?” 

She groans again, which means no. “Shh,” she whispers. “I don't ever wanna talk about that again.”

“I guess that's doable,” he says, stopping at the last light before Ruzek’s street. He picks up his phone and swipes over to his messages, quickly typing out a “2 min. ETA” message. 

“Jay,” her voice comes back over the line. And she sounds a little more like Hailey now, a little more awake. “About last night… I didn’t mean to make anything weird. But I meant what I said.”

He shakes his head, even though she can't see it. “Nothing’s weird. We're good, Hailey. But I'm about to pull up outside Ruze’s place...”

“Okay,” she says, as he pulls to a stop on the shoulder and Adam opens the door. 

“Hey man,” he says, settling in the truck. 

“Hey. Hailey's here too,” he says, gesturing to his phone and pulling back out into traffic. 

“Hailey Upton!” Adam near-shouts. “We miss you, girl.”

Her groan is immediate and loud. “Ugh, god, no, it's too early for you.” 

Adam laughs, _“Ouch,_ it’s like a flashback to when we dated. _”_

“Shh, Adam.” she groans. “Hey, call me later?” 

“Sure thing, darlin,’” Adam says, laughing, and Jay rolls his eyes at the cocky grin he shoots him. 

“Absolutely not,” Hailey says, and Jay laughs. “Jay, later?”

He can't resist. “Sure thing, darlin.’” Adam laughs, but Hailey is noticeably quiet. 

“You guys both suck,” she says finally, but he can hear the annoyed affection in her voice before she hangs up. 

“Dude,” Adam laughs, “what'd you do to Upton?”

_“I_ did nothing. Tequila, on the other hand,” he says. 

“Ahh, yep. Sounds right. Hailey makes some _choices_ with a little push from ole Jose.” He gestures to himself and laughs. “Prime example.”

Yeah, that's what he was afraid of. Worry twists in his gut again, but he pushes it down. 

(The Blackhawks lose in OT, and he knows it's stupid, but it feels like a metaphor for his life -- build up, set back, build back up, hope… let down.

He thinks about Hailey’s smiling face on FaceTime last night, the teasing, flirty banter. The way she'd wished he was there, the desperate way he'd wanted to be. The quiet pause when he'd not-so-jokingly called her darlin’. 

It feels like hope, and he wants to hold on to it.)

——————————

Hailey washes her face and brushes her teeth and stares at herself in the mirror a while later. She looks tired, but she shouldn't be surprised. 

Insomnia is her bitter rival, and last night, it won. She knows drinking can bring it on. Some people are lucky enough to sleep deeply after knocking back a few, but she’s never been one of them. 

Last night, of all nights, she'd laid awake for hours, watching the red numbers on the alarm clock turn and listening to the ever-present sounds of traffic down below.

She'd finally gotten up and sat looking out the window, watching brake lights and sirens flash in the dark. 

And the whole time she'd thought about Jay, and telling him she wished he was here, and the quiet way he'd just watched her like he so often did. 

It was like he'd known, he got it -- her asking him to come see her meant more than just a visit. It meant acknowledging that they both needed to see each other, _wanted_ to see each other, badly enough they couldn't wait until she got home. 

It would be a first step toward… something _more,_ something they'd maybe been dancing around for a while. There'd be no denying it wasn't. 

And it would be a big first step, an 800-mile leap. 

She changes into workout clothes and drags herself to the hotel gym and jogs on the treadmill, and it's exactly as horrible as she knew running while hungover would be. But it clears her mind a little, lets her focus on the way her body can move, and be proud of the discipline that's carried her through a physically demanding job. 

(And she doesn't think about her partner, who's always the first one in the door, always making sure she's safe, always pushing her to be a little bit braver, a little bit stronger. 

She doesn't think about her partner at all. She thinks about _Jay,_ the guy he is when he's relaxed and quiet, sleep-rumpled in the morning, when hopefully the last thing on his mind is the horror of what could be on the other side of the door he's always so willing to rush through.

The guy who still always makes sure she's safe, even from states away. The guy who makes her want to be brave enough, strong enough, to leap and be okay with falling.)

She showers and changes and thinks about going out and exploring, not wasting a Sunday in the hotel. But her head still hurts, and it doesn't feel like a waste if she's relaxing and enjoying herself. 

She watches mindless TV and scrolls through Instagram and looks for a couple new audiobooks for the gym and texts with Vanessa a little. 

She eats leftover Thai food for early dinner and by the time she's done, she feels antsy, and she knows it's because she doesn't typically sit around during the day, even on the weekends. But today feels earned, a well-deserved break after the whirlwind of work and upheaval and emotions and maybe too much tequila from the last week. 

She needs to relax though, so she has a chance at shutting her brain off and sleeping tonight. The insomnia can drag and although she'd managed to sleep eventually last night, she doesn't need a repeat before the start of the week. 

She gets up to wash her hands after she eats and finds a small bottle of bubble bath among the hotel toiletries on the counter. It's not ideal, it's not really a soaking tub, but the hot water will feel good, and the tension soaking out of her muscles will feel better. 

She draws as hot a bath as the hotel allows and slips in, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. 

——————————


	6. Chapter 6

_“The simple lack of her is more to me than others’ presence.”_

_\-- Edward Thomas_

She lets herself soak in the tub in the dark of the bathroom until the water is tepid and she's warm and relaxed, and she manages to not think about much of anything for a few minutes longer than usual. 

She's just stepping out of the tub when her phone buzzes, and she knows, because she'd just managed to not think about him for ten minutes, that it's Jay before she even looks. 

Better yet, it's a picture of Jay, and Kim, Adam, and Kevin, out at Molly’s. Jay’s in the foreground, and there's room enough between him and Kev that she knows she would have been right there, warm and smiling against his side for the picture. . 

Someone’s missing.

She smiles and wraps a towel around herself before responding. 

Yeah, Voight. He's gonna be sad he didn't get an invite. 

Like she expected, her phone rings almost instantly, and she's already smiling as she picks it up. 

“Clearly, I meant you,” he greets her, and she laughs. 

“Sure,” she says, listening to the background noise of the bar quiet slowly. 

“Still hungover?”

“I feel good, relaxed. I actually was just getting out of the bath when you texted,” she tells him, shouldering the phone and tying her towel tighter around her. She watches her face in the mirror, flushed from the slight sheen of sweat the hot water and steam caused. 

He's quiet for a moment, and she says his name softly. 

“Sorry, my brain just short-circuited there for a sec,” he says. His voice does sound a little rough, and it feels like the start to a dangerous game. 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs. “Are you all having fun at Molly’s?”

The familiar jingle of the bell above the bar door and the way the call goes quiet at the edges tells her he's stepped outside into the fresh air, and she wonders if she was there, and not on the phone, would she have followed him out?

“Sure. Kim met us up here after the game. She and Adam are flirting in the corner and Kev has suspiciously had to go to the bar to talk to the new bartender four times, so,” he trails off. 

“And you didn't find someone to flirt with?” She asks, and she knows by the soft chuckle that floats over the line that he could have had his pick. 

“I called you, didn't I?”

But he'd called her instead. 

“I guess so.”

It's quiet again, and this week has taught her their ability to sit in silence together is one of her favorite things about Jay and how they work together, even now, when the silence is charged with a tension she wants to relieve. 

“So, tell me more about this bath,” he says, “warm water, hot water, bubbles, no bubbles? Room for two?” and she laughs immediately. 

“I'm _sorry,_ is that you flirting with me?”

“Why? Not working?” He's laughing, the sound so husky and deep over the phone she wants to physically lean into it. 

“God no. But I guess when you look like that, you don't usually have to try, do you? Your whole face is a flirt.” 

“God, how are you better than I am at _everything?”_ He asks, incredulously. 

“Now, that's better. Flattery will get you very, very far.”

“Will it get me 800 miles closer to you?” 

And there it is. This is the leap she's done very little but think about today. She's about to respond when his voice pitches quieter for a second. 

“Hailey, hang on a sec,” he says. In the background, she hears voices approaching. “Ruze!” She hears him call. “Are you two leaving?” Muffled voices respond, he calls out a “drive safe,” and then his attention is back on her, his voice in her ear again.

“Sorry. Ruzek and Kim were leaving.”

“Together?” She already knows the answer. 

“Yeah. Is that… that's not weird for you, right?” He sounds hesitant, and she needs, she wants, to see his face. 

Except. Well. “Hang on. I need to get dressed.” She puts him on speaker in time to hear him groan. 

“You're killin’ me, Hailey.” 

She laughs, quickly pulling on a tee and shorts and picking the phone up to switch over to FaceTime. By the time he picks up, she can see the familiar cab of his truck, the quiet lilt of the radio in the background. 

“I don't know if you're aware,” he says in greeting, “but you're not supposed to put clothes _on_ to FaceTime a guy.” He's smiling, cocky, but she just rolls her eyes. 

“Keep wishing, bud,” she says, and the way he just shrugs, smirking, tells her he absolutely will. 

“The Adam thing? it's not weird. We weren't willing to sacrifice or compromise for each other. It was never going to be more than it was. Kim and Adam are supposed to be together… it just takes some people time to figure it out.”

“Think they will? Figure it out?”

“Adam and Kim?” 

He hesitates and she watches him glance away for a second. “Sure.”

She watches him for a moment, the easy way he can be vulnerable and so, so cautious at the same time, how she can read it all on his face. “Yeah,” she says. “I think they both want to.”

He nods, and the tiny smile that he tries to hide by looking out the window is exactly why she needed to see his face. “Good.”

“Jay-- “ she starts, but his attention is pulled away from the screen by what sounds like a knock on the window. 

“Hey, man,” he says, and she hears the passenger door open as Kevin's voice fills the cab. 

“Bro, can you give me a ride home? There's no universe in which I should drive right now.”

She watches Jay nod, and the phone shifts so she can see Kevin settling in the passenger side. 

It's her seat, most days. She's only a little jealous. 

“Say hey to Hailey,” Jay says, and Kevin smiles and waves and then glances between the phone screen and Jay. 

“Are y'all just sitting out here FaceTiming? That's… not weird at all,” he says, and Jay rolls his eyes. 

“I'm sorry, dude, which one of us got sloshed trying to flirt with the new bartender? You know you don't _actually_ have to keep buying drinks to flirt with her, right?”

“Yeah, well. Tell her that,” he mumbles, and Hailey laughs. 

“Just flatter her a little, man. I hear it'll get you pretty far. Right, Hailey?” Jay says, glancing at her, his smile teasing. 

Hailey rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Flattery and a nice smile will get you just about anywhere with the right person.” 

Kevin just nods, glancing between them again. _“Right.”_

Hailey laughs, and it turns into a yawn. “Jay, call me tomorrow? I'm gonna sleep.” She still feels relaxed, and she wants to go to sleep with this floaty, flirty feeling still filling her. 

He nods, Kev waves, and she hangs up. 

Except, like she could have bet money on it, her phone vibrates with a text a little while later while she's trying to get comfortable. 

So, just how far exactly will my nice smile get me?   
  


I'm sorry, do you have a nice smile? That advice was for Kev.   
  


Ouch. Guess I'll have to up my flirting game after all.   
  


Your game is more than fine.   
  


It’s just too far away currently.   
  


I know. We'll figure it out. Get some sleep, Hailey.   
  


Sweet dreams.   
  


You too.   
  


She rolls over on her side and looks out at the lights of the city, still bright at the late hour, and thinks about Jay's voice, soft and flirty over the phone line, until she falls asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_“You know you're falling in love when the feeling of falling actually feels like you're floating.”_

_\-- Rashida Rowe_

Monday starts early, but that floaty, flirty feeling still lingers when she wakes up. She knows it won't be the same this week -- they'll both be busy with work, they won't have the benefit of time on their hands. But he -- and yes, his more than nice smile -- was her first thought this morning. It feels like a good start to the week. 

She stops for coffee on her way in, texting Kristen for her order as well as OA’s and Jubal’s, which she isn't shocked to find Kristen knows by heart. Ordering coffees and not adding in Jay’s usual drink feels weird and makes her miss home for a moment. She lets herself feel sad until the barista calls her name, and then she smiles her thanks and heads back out onto the street. 

She delivers coffees and settles in before pulling out her phone to tap out a quick text before the morning debrief. 

19 days.  
  


Kristen comes over then, OA hot on her heels, and she pockets her phone, and before she knows it, the quick debrief is over and she and OA are on their way to do surveillance on a suspect in a double murder. 

It's about as thrilling as it is in Chicago, except the time in the back of the van is filled with small talk and the back and forth of getting to know OA, instead of the easy peace she's developed with Jay. 

“What would you and Maggie be talking about if she was here? 

“Maggie?” He asks, and the way he says it makes her smile, like he's happy just to talk about her. “Honestly? Probably nothing, or what she wanted for lunch if she was hungry. She's pretty private for the most part.”

“Maybe she and I are more alike than I thought,” she says. “It takes me a while to open up.”

He smiles, “Hadn't noticed. But Maggie. She… lost her husband suddenly not too long ago. I get the idea she wasn't always so private.” 

“That's horrible. I can't even imagine.” 

She thinks about Garrett, and how awful that had been, and about Jay, and the fear that had spiked in her stomach seeing him laid out under an overpass. 

“I know,” he says quietly. “She's tough as hell though.” He sounds proud, and worried, and maybe a little wistful. 

She gets it. “You miss her.”

He nods. “More than I thought I would. It's just not knowing where she is or what she's involved in. I mean, you have a partner. You know.”

She does. She thinks about Jay, abducted and chained up, and the sound that cracked through the air when the gun went off, so different than any other gunfire she'd ever heard. “Yeah. I know.”

And like he's got a sixth sense tuned just for her, her phone vibrates in her pocket. She knows it's him before she even pulls it out, glancing apologetically at OA as she swipes the message open. 

What if it was 5 days instead? You, me, Saturday sightseeing?  
  


Her smile is immediate, and noticeable because OA is smiling when she glances up. 

“Good news?”

She nods. “Yeah. It is.”

Wouldn't be mad about it.  
  


Good. Details later. Kick FBI ass.  
  


His reply is immediate, and it's enough to get her through the next couple hours of surveillance, that flirty, floaty feeling propelling her along. 

——————————

Except, that quick text exchange is kind of the highlight of her day. The case they're working is turning into a bigger deal than anyone initially thought, and even OA seems a little out of his element, surprises around every corner. 

By the time she leaves the office that night, it's an hour later than usual and she's mentally exhausted. 

Jay calls as she's stepping off the elevator on her floor, and she smiles seeing that he's already just assumed it'll turn into a FaceTime call. 

His smile is bright and relaxed when she picks up, but it fades a little when he sees her face. 

“You okay?”

She nods, opens the hotel room door, and unceremoniously drops her bags. 

“Yeah,” she says, slipping out of her shoes and shaking her hair out of its ponytail. She hangs her suit jacket in the closet and walks over to the bed, letting herself fall back against the pillows. “I'm better now. Just one of those cases.”

“I'm sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Not now. Tell me more about this sightseeing on Saturday. Might be all that gets me through this case.”

He smiles, and it's like the tension eases off her shoulders a little like he's taking some of the load off her, like he always manages. 

“I mean, you're the New Yorker now. I'm gonna expect the grand tour.” 

She laughs. “High expectations. Hope you like my daily route to the office and the bodega down the block, because those are the only places I've managed to get to more than once.”

“I don't care what we do, Hailey. The tour could start and end with your hotel room and I'd be happy.”

She raises her eyebrows and he laughs. 

“I _actually_ did not mean that how it sounded. I just mean, I'm coming to see _you,_ the city is just a bonus.”

She smiles. “Okay.”

“You can thank drunk Kev for my visit, by the way.”

“Oh? He’s probably having a rough day. Shot down last night and hungover on a Monday,” she laughs. 

“He was dragging this morning, for sure. Last night after you hung up, he said, ‘I miss Hailey, she's like the exact right amount of caring and kinda scary.’ And I agreed, obviously. And when I woke up this morning, I still missed you. But I realized I didn't have to.”

“That's a pretty good compliment, makes me sound like a badass. Maybe you _should_ follow Kevin’s lead on flirting.”

“Hailey, you _are_ a badass. But his bar tab last night cost more than the airfare I'm looking at right now.”

She laughs. “Well, that's probably excessive. Don't take advice from Kevin. You can flirt with me for the low price of airfare and a TSA search.”

“Worth it. So, you're sure you want me to come visit? My ticket is refundable, but my hurt feelings won't be.”

He's smiling though, and she just takes a moment to watch him. She should be concerned that her day has been so rapidly improved just from his face, but she isn't. 

“Jay. Buy the damn ticket.”

“Yeah?” 

“Before I change my mind, yeah,” but it's an empty threat and they both know it. 

“Okay.” Except he doesn't do anything but watch her. 

Her stomach growls audibly and he grins. 

“Shut up,” she smiles. “We worked through lunch.”

“No big takeout budget for the Feds? Even Voight springs for pizza every once in a while,” he says. 

“They're less concerned with me eating than they are catching murderers. Shocking, I know,”

“Well, yeah. Clearly, they don't know how hangry you get. I'd worry more about that than some murderers.”

“Hey, remember how I said to buy the ticket before I changed my mind? Better get on that.”

“Jeez, don't get hangry at me, Hailey. I'm not there to make sure you get food.” 

“Shh. Go buy your ticket. I need to shower this day away before I can even think about going to find food. Might even take a long, hot bath first.”

He grins. “You know, your iPhone is waterproof. Feel free to keep FaceTiming me through that whole process.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your impending visit has made you _very_ cocky.”

He smiles. “Not cocky. Just very, very hopeful.”

“Mhmm,” she says. “I'm going. Text me your flight info.”

“Will do,” he says.

“And Jay?” She stands and starts unbuttoning her dress shirt one-handed, watching the way his smile quirks into a surprised laugh. “Keep that hope alive.” She stops just at the edge of her bra and laughs at the small groan he lets out. 

“C’mon, that's just rude.”

“Sorry,” she says, laughing. “Guess you'll just have to hop on a plane or something.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go relax, Hailey.”

“Bye.” She waves and ends the call, heading off to start the bath. 

——————————

Her phone buzzes a while later and she dries her hand on a towel at the edge of the tub before reaching for it. 

It's not Jay, though, and she frowns. 

It's OA, telling her Jubal wants them in earlier tomorrow. She groans and lets herself sink under into the hot water for a few moments. The water is relaxing, and she reminds herself that overall, today was a good day. 

It's a day that could be the start of something, something _really_ good, and she holds onto that feeling as she tells OA she'll see him bright and early.

(She's not proud of it, but by the time she drags herself out of the tub, the idea of going to find a healthier dinner option is scrapped in favor of chips from the vending machine down the hall. 

So she'll be hangry in the morning. Maybe she can channel it into solving their case.)

Jay sends a screenshot of his flight info a little while later as she's scarfing down chips in front of the TV. 

It's the best part of her day. 

——————————


	8. Chapter 8

_“We were together even when we were apart.”_

_\-- Shannon A. Thompson_

By the time her phone alerts her to a text from Jay Tuesday morning, she's been in the FBI squad room for two hours and she's feeling every second of them. 

She'd been so drained last night that she'd fallen asleep quickly and dreamt of the Brooklyn Bridge and Jay, his tall frame next to her looking out over the skyline. She felt happy and peaceful and excited when she woke up. 

And then she'd walked into chaos. Their double murder had turned into a triple, and their leads were still just one confusing twist after another. 

When she stops to check her phone, she has to blink to focus on the screen. It's the first time she's looked up from case files in entirely too long and her eyes feel the strain. 

4 days, Hailey.  
  


Best news I've heard all morning.   
  


Same case?  
  


Yeah. Might be a little MIA today.  
  


No worries. Kim says hi. She's ready for you to come be responsible for me again.  
  


Me too.   
  


He's typing again, but OA’s voice distracts her. 

“Hailey. Come on, we've got a lead.”

She grabs her jacket and pockets her phone and follows him out. 

——————————

Except, they don't have a lead. Not really. She feels like they're chasing their tails, and she says as much to OA on the way back a few hours later. 

He frowns. “I know. Maggie would say that the good thing about chasing your tail is that you're bound to catch it eventually.”

“That's a good way to look at it, I guess,” she says. 

“You can say it's annoying. We don't spare feelings around here.”

She laughs. “Good. The idea is nice, but I'd prefer actually getting some results currently.”

He nods. “You hungry?”

She thinks about Jay immediately, the teasing way he showed he knows her so well. “I might be a little hangry, yeah,” she says, and he laughs. 

“Yeah, let’s fix that quick,” he says. “Maggie gets this look like I need to watch my back when she's hungry.”

“Sounds like you and Jay have more in common than just the Army.”

“Your partner served?”

 _Your partner._ It's silly, because that's exactly what he is. But hearing someone else link him so casually to her makes her smile. 

“Rangers, yeah.”

OA glances at her as he switches lanes. “Afghanistan? Iraq?”

“Afghanistan. We… he's more open about it now, but it's not something we discuss often.”

He nods. “Yeah. I get that. It's hard to explain if you weren't there.”

“I can't imagine.”

“You don't want to,” he says, and for a moment she thinks of Jay, how etched in pain his face is anytime it comes up, even now. 

The car pulls to a stop and she glances out the window. “Egyptian?”

He nods. “That cool? Figured you might want to try some local places while you're here.”

“For sure. Beats the vending machine dinner I had last night,” she laughs, hopping out of the car and following him inside. 

——————————

The food is good, and relaxed OA is chatty, funny in a way that reminds her just enough of Jay that she feels at ease. 

They talk about the case some, his time undercover and her run as Kelly. It's not a replacement for either Maggie or Jay, but it's _nice,_ and she knows he's a good guy. 

Her phone rings as they're finishing up and she picks it up without glancing at the screen. Kristen has called a couple times with updates, so she feels safe assuming that's who it is. 

“Upton.”

“Halstead,” Jay mimics, and she smiles. “Are we not on a first name basis anymore? Should I call you Special Agent? I could be into that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hi, Jay. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” She mouths _sorry_ to OA, but he waves her off, finishing up his food. 

“God, already forgetting me? I guess it's a good thing I'm coming to remind you.”

“It is a good thing. What's up?”

“Sorry, I know you're in the middle of it today. I just had a question about one of your subpoenas on the docket next week. A couple pages are missing from the file.” 

He fills her in on the case and she gives him the missing info to the best of her ability without her notes in front of her. “Can I call you when I get back to the hotel? I can pull up my old notes.”

“‘Course,” he says. She hears a commotion in the background, a familiar, commanding voice. 

“Is that Platt? Tell her hi, but only if she's in a good mood.”

He laughs and she hears him relay the message to Trudy. “She says hi and asks if you're enjoying your nice suit.”

“Huh?” She asks. 

“Don't worry about it,” he mutters. “I'll let you go. Call whenever you're free tonight.”

“Okay,” she says, and she glances at OA. For his part, he doesn't seem to be paying any attention. She doesn't want to hang up the phone. 

“Hey, Hailey?” Jay’s voice pitches low, and she knows he's trying to keep quiet. “Miss you.”

She smiles. “Yeah, you too. Later.”

“Sorry,” she says, pocketing the phone. “Jay’s covering a few notices to appear for me so he's playing catch up on cases even I barely remember.”

“No worries,” he says, signaling for the waitress. “You two sound close.”

So much for him not paying attention. “Yeah. We are.”

He glances at her closely as the waitress brings the bill. She reaches for her wallet, but he shakes his head. 

“Nah. Consider it thanks for saving my ass last week.” 

She starts to protest, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” she says. “But we're even.”

“Sure.” He tosses a couple bills on the table and stands, smirking. “Ready to get back at it? Not hangry anymore?”

She rolls her eyes and follows him out the door. 

——————————

Jay hangs up the phone and watches Platt head back down the stairs out of the squad room. 

He thinks about Hailey, her quiet “yeah, you too,” and the airfare confirmation email sitting in his inbox. 

He stands and makes his way down the stairs, catching Platt as she rounds the corner to her desk. 

“Hey, Sarge? Can you do me a favor?”

She glances at him. “I'm not necessarily inclined to do that, Halstead. But what's up?”

He smiles his most come _on, you know I'm charming_ smile, but she doesn't even flinch. May as well just go for it. “Can you take my name off the call list this weekend?”

She eyes him. “Intelligence doesn't usually get called in on weekends unless you catch a case. Trying to avoid some all-hands-on-deck disaster I should know about?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Keep a secret?”

She rolls her eyes. “Jay, if you knew a tenth of the secrets I'm taking to the grave for this city, you'd never sleep again.”

He pauses. 

“That means yes,” she says. 

_“Right._ Well. I'm going out of town this weekend.”

There it is, the tiniest flicker of interest. “Oh?”

He nods. 

“Perhaps to visit a certain member of the team who's currently on loan to the FBI?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“Gotta make sure she doesn't get too comfortable in those nice suits, huh.”

He glances away quickly. “She won't.”

Platt nods. “Yeah, Jay. I think I can take your name off the call list this weekend.”

He raps his knuckles on the edge of the desk. “Thank you. You're the best.”

She nods, barely glancing back up from her paperwork. He turns to go, but her voice stops him. 

“You know, you could have just gone down to records and asked Virginia for the missing pages of that file. You didn't have to call Upton.”

He grins, already typing in the code to buzz back up. “Yeah, I did.”

——————————

“So you miss me, do ya?” Her smile greets him a few hours later as he's just finishing a quick dinner at home. 

He smiles. “Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“It occurred to me after we hung up that you could have just as easily run down to records to reprint the file. I didn't have to scour my memory.”

He laughs. He's caught. “That was an option, sure. But then you wouldn't have gotten to talk to me.” 

“Oh,” she smiles. “So that was purely for _my_ benefit.”

“Yeah, for sure. I didn't want to hear your voice at all. I _dreaded_ making that call.”

“Mhmm,” she says. “Believable.”

He grins, heading over to settle on the couch. “How'd the rest of the day go? Any luck with that case?”

She shakes her head. “We can't seem to get ahead of it. But I'm just glad I'm home-- well, _here,_ now, and can put it away for a few hours.”

He nods. “I'm sure it won't nag at you for hours or anything. Maybe _actually_ try to put it away for the night.” 

She rolls her eyes, but nods. “It's dumb, but I kind of hoped all the fancy tech would make it easier? It's impressive, but at the end of the day it's no different than back home. People still do horrible things and it's still hard to catch them.”

He frowns. “I know.”

“But, anyway. No more work talk for the day, unless you _actually_ need my notes for that subpoena.”

He smiles. “No, I think I can manage.”

“I figured. Oh, I thought of something I want to show you this weekend.”

He raises his eyebrows suggestively and she laughs, the sound coming through the phone speaker and filling his living room. 

“Don't be a perv. How do you feel about heights?”

“That depends. Does your plan include throwing me off a very tall building?”

“I’m gonna play it by ear, see how I feel.”

“Hailey, I spent a good chunk of my 20s parachuting out of perfectly good aircraft. Heights don't bother me. The fact that you can't promise to not toss me off a building, however, _little worried.”_

“Just checking. OA took me for Egyptian food today. I'm gonna see what other places he recommends to spare you from the pizza horror I experienced.”

He laughs. Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the memory and he really, really misses her. “He a good guy?”

She nods. “He is. He's steady. He was a Ranger too.”

“Good. At least I know he knows how to watch your back.”

“You don't have to worry about me, Jay. I can take care of myself,” she says, but there's a hint of a smile before she glances away. 

“Oh, I know you can. But I'm still gonna. That's what partners do.”

“Does that mean I have to have a talk with Kim about watching your back while I'm gone?”

He laughs. “You know Kim’s good. She probably has a lot of questions for you, though. Supposedly I’m annoying on surveillance and she’s surprised you put up with me.”

 _“Well,”_ she says, “you _are_ annoying after hours in an enclosed space. But you have your good points too.”

“Ouch. Care to elaborate on the good points?”

She frowns. “Sorry, coming up blank. You'll have to remind me this weekend.” 

“I can do that.”

She yawns, leaning out of frame, and he smiles. It's not late, but he knows she's been up a long time. “Hailey?”

“Hmm?”

“Go to sleep.” She's going to fight it. 

“I don't want to.” _There it is._

“You're tired.”

“Yeah. I just meant--" she starts, but he smiles and shakes his head.

“I know what you meant. Talk to me tomorrow. Do me a favor and don't plan any more sightseeing things that involve tall buildings until you can promise my safety.”

“I'll consider it.”

“Good enough. Night, Hailey.”

She waves, the screen goes dark, and he sighs.

Saturday feels like an eternity away. 

——————————


	9. Chapter 9

_“Love is what you’ve been through with somebody.”_

_\-- James Thurber_

Wednesday is more of the same -- an early start, confusing leads, lunch (Italian, with Kristen), a countdown text from Jay (three days, and it finally feels a little more real), a FaceTime call about nothing in particular that she doesn’t want to end. 

She feels like she’s just biding her time. Until they close this case. Until Saturday. Until whatever happens when Jay is here, when he’s close enough to touch if she’ll let herself. 

Thursday starts the same -- earlier than she'd like, but they might actually be turning a corner this time, so she doesn't mind hailing a cab for work when it's just barely light out. 

She texts Jay once she's in the cab. It's too early, but he's her favorite way to start the day now, and she doesn't want to break the habit of starting her workday with him. 

Two days.   
  


Her phone rings immediately, and she frowns. It's barely 6AM back home, which is easily two hours earlier than Jay ever willingly wakes up. 

“Did I wake you?” She answers, pitching her voice low enough that she can fake some sense of privacy in the back of the cab. 

“No, I wish,” he says. “We got an early call out. It's… bad. A whole family.”

“Jesus. I'm sorry. Kids?” Jay isn't fazed by much. He's isn't jaded, he feels it all -- but he's seen so much -- war, and pain and brutality in his own city -- that she knows it's horrific just from his tone. 

“Yeah.” He sounds distracted, and she hears someone, maybe Adam, in the background. “Young. A couple.” Kids are the worst, and rightfully so. But she knows he can still close his eyes and see the face of every child he's ever found at a crime scene. 

They all can. But they seem to hit Jay especially hard. 

“I'm sorry,” she says again because there really isn't much else she can say. Nothing he doesn't already know, at least. 

“It helps, hearing your voice.” His voice is hushed, and it feels too intimate for a crime scene and the back of a cab in the early morning light. 

The cab is pulling up to the curb in front of the office, and she distractedly hands the driver a couple bills and mouths a quick thanks. 

“I can stay on the phone if you want,” she says, shouldering her bag and heading toward the door. 

“I always want, Hailey,” he whispers. “But Kim and Kevin just got here. I'm gonna go catch them up. I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

“You too.” The line goes dead and she scans her badge to get into the building. The elevator ride up is packed and she can hear Jubal and other agents talking before the doors have even opened on their floor. 

It's an early morning for everyone, apparently. 

——————————

She and OA spend the morning interviewing a suspect, and she listens to the guy lie, and lie, and lie again until she's close to her breaking point. 

She steps out of the room to clear her head, but she just ends up thinking about Jay. The way his voice sounded on the phone, intense but distracted, the voice that always puts her on alert. 

The voice that tells her she needs to watch out for her partner more closely than normal. 

The voice that makes him feel even further away today than he already is. 

The voice that's made her follow him into quiet break rooms and pull him aside and _worry._

Got time for a coffee break?  
  


It's not the same thing, but when her phone rings a minute later as she's walking into the small break room, she smiles. 

He looks tired when she answers, and it makes sense. But he still smiles, a little hesitant, a little unsure. 

“Checking on me, Hailey?”

She shrugs, reaching over for a disposable cup. She misses their mug wall, even if it means there are almost always half-soapy mugs in the sink. 

“Just saying hi,” she says. 

He's at his desk, and she takes in the familiar view over his shoulder. He nods like he doesn't quite believe her, but he stands to head to the break room anyway, and it feels like a win. 

She watches him close the door and settle on the couch. 

“No coffee?” She asks, taking a sip. It's bitter, even by black coffee standards, but it'll do. 

“I just finished my third cup,” he admits, grinning. “I think that might be my daily limit.” 

She watches his face, the way the grin fades as the words trail off. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Is it Saturday yet?”

She smiles but shakes her head. “The Feds haven't taught me time manipulation yet, so. No.”

“You're really not making the most of this experience, Hailey. I'm a little disappointed.” 

“Shut up,” she laughs. A knock sounds in the background on his end, and she watches him pan to the door. 

Kim’s there, holding out his jacket and a couple files. “Hey, Hailey!” She calls, and Hailey waves. “Jay, sorry. We gotta run.” 

“Meet you downstairs,” he says, and turns back to face her. “Sorry.” 

She shakes her head. “Go.”

He stands and pauses. “Hey, thanks.”

She smiles. “I don't know what you're talking about. This was purely for my benefit.”

“Then, you're welcome.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up. Go.”

He's smiling as he hangs up, and she feels slightly more at ease. 

She finishes her coffee and heads back into the interview room. 

——————————

She grabs a salad from a deli down the block on her way back to the hotel later that night. They didn't get anywhere with the suspect, but at this point, she's really not even surprised. 

Annoyed? Frustrated? Yes. But surprised? No. 

It's one of those days where nothing seems to go exactly right. She’s due for one, probably. Life’s been a little too flirty and fun lately. 

Jay calls as she's finishing her salad, and something about the way it's not their becoming-habit nightly FaceTime call makes her stomach twist a little. 

“Hey,” she answers, pushing her food aside and moving so she can sit and look out the window at the traffic down below. “Tired of my face today?”

“Not possible.” She can hear the reverb that tells her he's in his truck, and she doesn't have to see him to know exactly how he looks after years of watching him drive, of watching his concentration and quick reflexes behind the wheel. “I just knew I wouldn't be able to tell you what I need to if I had to look at you.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

“Look,” he starts. She can hear in his tone that she's not going to like what he has to say. “Kev messed up his knee chasing our offender this afternoon. He's okay,” he says before she can ask. “But he's on desk duty for a week, and the guy got away.”

She nods, even though he can't see her face. “And this guy,” he continues, “I think we're close to finding him. He killed a whole family, two _kids,_ Hailey. Just, shot them point-blank.”

“That's horrible.” It is, and he knows it. It doesn't need to be said. But it feels weird letting the silence stretch over the line. She's used to watching him form the words, seeing when he's putting them together. It doesn't translate as well over the phone. 

“I just… we're already stretched a little thin, and now with Kev being out,” he pauses, and she hears him sigh. “I don't want to risk this guy getting away again because I wasn't there.”

“Jay,” she starts. She gets it. And she gets it especially from him -- his guilt complex won't let him rest if there's a chance he could be doing more. But his voice stops her. 

“Hailey, am I screwing this up? If I don't come out there this weekend... that's not… _it_ for us, right? Because I --”

“Jay,” she says again, louder than maybe she means to. But this, and the way his voice went quiet, softer, around the _for us_ part, feels important. “You're not screwing this up.”

It's quiet for a moment. She can hear the sounds of traffic in the background, can picture his face perfectly. 

“I’d rather see you, obviously,” she continues. “But I'll be home in two weeks. The reasons I want you here now are still gonna be there when I get home.”

“I just don't want you to think I don't-- “ He pauses, and she lets him just breathe for a moment. “I don't want you to think I can't compromise or sacrifice… that I wouldn't do that for you.”

It's what she'd told him about Adam. About why they hadn't worked, why they hadn't been more. She breathes out a shaky breath and focuses out the window on the traffic down below for a moment. 

“This is different, Jay,” she says. “If you came out here when your gut was telling you to stay and focus on work and be there for our team, you'd be sacrificing one of the best parts of yourself. That's not how it's supposed to work, not with me.”

“Yeah?” It's quiet, hesitant. 

“Yeah,” she echos. “This is fine. It might even be better this way.”

“I don't --” he starts, and she knows. 

“I mean,” she continues, lets her tone tease a little. “if you'd come out here this weekend, I'm not sure I'd have been able to let you leave. And then you'd have missed work. And Voight would fire you. And I'd have to find a new partner, which is just a _lot_ of work for me.”

He laughs, low and easy. “Wouldn't have been able to let me leave, huh?”

“Jesus,” she mutters, laughing. They’re quiet for a moment and she listens to his quiet breathing, the familiar _ding ding ding_ of his truck door opening, his breathing louder with the phone off speaker, the sound of his boots trudging up the stairs to his apartment. 

“So Kev’s really okay?”

“Yeah. He won't be hopping any fences anytime soon, but he's good. Said he's gonna wear the brace to Molly's and see if it gets him any sympathy from the hot bartender.”

She laughs. “The _hot_ bartender?”

“His words, not mine,” he says, adamantly. 

“Mhmm.” 

“C’mon, Hailey. You know by now you're the only hot bartender for me. All my best drinks are with you.”

“Okay,” she laughs. “Don't hurt yourself with that reach.”

“Definitely not a reach, but _okay,”_ he says, and the fact that she can hear the smile in his voice again helps her gut untwist a little.

“You're not spinning out about this case, are you? I'm not there to reel you back in.”

“Yeah, you are. That little voice that sounds like Hailey is always with me. _Usually_ it's just making sarcastic comments and laughing at me, but I've learned to listen to it.”

 _“Sometimes,_ you mean. Sometimes you listen.” 

“Yeah, well. It's a learning process.”

“Jay, seriously,” she says. Because she's _not_ there. She knows enough to know she couldn't stop it from happening even if she was, but. Still. She'd be there if it did. 

“Hailey, _seriously._ I promise. I want to close the case, but I'm good.”

“Okay,” she says. 

“I'm good,” he continues. “But I could be better.”

“Hmm?” Her phone beeps against her ear and she pulls it away to accept his FaceTime call. 

“Now I'm better,” he says, his voice low. He’s laying back in bed, his jacket still on, and he looks exhausted. “Hailey, I'm sorry.”

She shakes her head. “No. You don't need to apologize for being a good teammate and a good cop. It's what makes you the best partner I've ever had.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. We’ll just… start the countdown over. I'll be home soon. We’ll just focus on that.”

“Okay.” He yawns, and she watches his eyes close briefly. 

“Jay?”

“Hmm?” It's numbly and quiet, and she wants to play it on a loop, wants to watch his face relax with sleep, wants to watch the tension ease a little. 

“Go to sleep,” she whispers. “You're exhausted.”

“Tired of my face?” The phone moves and she watches him shrug out of his jacket and lay back down. 

“Not possible,” she says. “I just want it to be rested the next time I see it.”

“Okay.” He yawns again and she smiles. 

“Jay, seriously. Call me tomorrow. Sleep good.”

“You too.” 

She watches his face for a moment more and then ends the call. She throws her takeout container in the garbage and runs through her nighttime routine quickly -- brush teeth, wash face, secure weapon, PJs -- before slipping into bed. 

There's a text waiting when she picks up her phone to plug it in. 

You're the best partner I ever had too, Hailey.  
  


She's disappointed they’ll have to start the countdown over tomorrow, but she still goes to sleep happy. 

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, friends! I promise it'll all be okay. This is Jay and Hailey's love story -- it just takes some time.


	10. Chapter 10

_And I wonder what you're thinking, whenever you're not around._

_Any secret I was keepin', I wanna tell you right now._

_\-- Ron Pope (Last First Kiss)_

By the time his phone dings with a text from Hailey on Friday, Jay’s been at his desk for an hour. The bullpen is still quiet, only the accent lights and his computer screen lighting the room. 

He’d fallen asleep early, and somehow stayed asleep long enough that he was awake and rested before his alarm went off. He’d skipped the gym and come into work in the quiet, but if he’s being honest, he’d spent a lot of time looking at Hailey’s empty desk and thinking about the ticket cancellation email he’d gotten this morning. 

By the time her name pops up on his phone, he’s ready for a break, and she’s always been his best distraction. 

I’m not going to give you a countdown today. We both know exactly how many days are left. Just saying good morning.  
  


Didn’t wanna actually SAY good morning?  
  


His phone rings and he takes a moment to stand up and move around their desks until he’s sitting in her chair. When he answers, he’s greeted with an eye roll and a smile. 

_“Good morning._ Better?” She asks. 

He nods. “Yep, thanks. Bye,” he jokes, and she laughs. 

“No, absolutely not. I don’t think I’m actually supposed to be FaceTiming in the squad room, so you better make this worth the risk.” 

“God, Hailey. For the last time, I’m not stripping for you on FaceTime.”

She laughs again, and it’s the best sound he’s heard all morning. “Wouldn’t do you justice anyway, I know,” she says.

He shrugs. She sits back in her chair and he takes a moment to survey the office behind her. It’s big, and bright, and mostly empty. 

“I’m sorry,” she says suddenly, leaning forward. “Are you sitting at my desk?”

He turns the camera so she can see that he clearly is. “Mine is a little messy.” He pans so she can see the files spread across his side. 

“I see that,” she says. “You’re working early. You good?”

“Hailey.” She’s checking again to see if he’s spinning out, and he appreciates it, he does. But he’s good. “I’m still good. I promise. I just actually woke up early this morning, that’s it.”

She nods. “Okay,” she says, but there’s an edge to it. 

“Where’s your partner?” 

“I’m looking at him,” she says, and he smiles. 

_“Okay,_ where’s the guy I’m trusting to watch your back?” 

“He’ll be in soon,” she says. The camera moves a little as a voice creeps into the background, and he watches the view of the room change to take in a woman over her shoulder.

“Hang on,” she says. “Kristen, hey, wanna meet Jay?”

She stands and he gets a good view of the room before Kristen is in the frame too. 

“Jay, this is Kristen. Kristen, _this_ is Jay,” she says, and something about the way she emphasizes _this_ tells him it’s not the first time they’ve talked about him, which is… interesting. 

“Hi, Jay! We love Hailey, you gonna let us keep her?” 

He laughs. “Yeah, not a chance. We love her too. We’re counting down the days over here,” he says. 

They chat for a minute, and he’s aware that Hailey’s eyes haven’t left him the whole time. It’s a little distracting, and he’s relieved when someone calls Kristen’s name in the background.

“Jubal,” she and Hailey say together, laughing, and Kristen calls a quick bye before she heads out of frame. 

“What’s a--” he starts to ask, but footsteps on the stairs stop him. Burgess is coming in, and he waves.

“Wanna say hey to Kim?” He asks, and Hailey smiles. 

“Yeah… oh, wait,” She pauses, looking off-screen. “Jay, sorry. I’ve gotta run. Tell Kim we’ll do dinner when I get back.”

“Okay, but I get dibs on your first dinner, Bartoli's,” he says, and she grins.

“It’s a date,” she says. “Gotta run. Talk later.” 

_It’s a date._

Well, _that’s_ something he could spin out about. But more footsteps echo on the stairs and voices fill the bullpen, and before he can think too much on it, the day begins. 

——————————

She's distracted all through their morning debrief and while she and OA run surveillance on a suspect. 

_Yeah, not a chance. We love her too._

_It's a date._

She's pretty sure her brain and her mouth had some sort of disconnect that caused her to say it so casually. It doesn't have to mean anything, except. 

Except. It _could._

She wants it to. 

——————————

She thinks about it so much the rest of the day that by the time Jay’s face pops up on her phone later that night and she accepts the FaceTime call, the first words out of her mouth are rushed and sound so unsure even she questions herself. 

“About earlier… when I said _it's a date,_ I didn't mean…”

He chuckles a little, and she watches him adjust the pillows behind his head. He's in bed again, and she tries not to overthink that, too. 

“First, hi,” he says. 

She rolls her eyes. “Hi.”

“Second, you've got that Hailey look that says you've been thinking about this all day.”

“Yeah, I'm not going to respond to that,” she mutters. 

“Right. Well, I've definitely been thinking about it all day.”

She raises her eyebrows, but he just shakes his head and continues. 

“The way I figure it, we've got two options. One, you tell me it's actually a date. I plan on kissing you goodnight and I think about it all night. Or two, you tell me it's _not_ a date and I don't kiss you goodnight, I just think about it all night.”

She blinks a couple times. “So, you _did_ think about it all day.”

_“Totally_ distracted. Kim probably hates me.”

“And just so I'm clear. Either way, you still think about kissing me goodnight?”

“Correct.” He nods, and he looks _gorgeous_ and so sure of himself she needs a moment to collect herself.

“But only if it's a date do you actually do it?”

He nods. 

“And if it's not a date, you don't.”

“I think that's been established,” he says, grinning at her. 

“So what if it's not a date and you still want to kiss me?” It sounds like a challenge as it leaves her lips, and the little quirk of his mouth tells her he won't back down.

“Hailey, that's just like a random Tuesday for me.”

“Only a Tuesday?" She asks. 

He smiles. “Wednesday, Thursday, Friday at,” he pauses, and she sees him glance at his watch, “7:34 PM.”

She bites her lip. “Very specific.”

“Yeah, well.”

_“Yeah, well,” she_ mimics. “Jay?”

“Hmm?”

She pauses, watching him get comfortable again. “I'd hate for all that thinking to go to waste.”

“It's pretty enjoyable. I wouldn't _really_ call it a--”

“Jay?” He stops. “It's a date.”

“I mean, if you insist.”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes, but he just grins. 

——————————

She carries that grin with her into a busy weekend that doesn't go at all like she'd started the week hoping it would. 

OA calls her on Saturday morning before she's even had her first cup of coffee. 

“Sorry to bug you. I figured you might have plans already, but. On the off-chance you don't, I think we've got him, Hailey. Want to get some OT and get this guy?”

“I’ll see you in half an hour,” she says. 

“Thought so,” he laughs. 

——————————

So, it's not as good as you and the Brooklyn Bridge, but I'm spending my Saturday catching a murderer.  
  


That's gotta be almost as good.  
  


Almost.  
  


Try not to annoy Kim today.  
  


You’re the one who distracted me yesterday. Hopefully we’ll get this guy today and she can be free of me for the weekend.  
  


Hopefully. Later.  
  


——————————

True to his word, OA is right. They finally get the guy and get a confession, and for how frustrating the case has been, it's a relatively easy process. 

She's finishing up her paperwork later that afternoon when her phone rings. 

“Hey,” she says slowly as she finishes jotting down a note. 

“Hey. You sound distracted. Busy?”

“No, just finishing up some paperwork.” 

“Knew I recognized that tone. Get your guy?”

“Finally,” she says. “What about you?”

“Almost. We've got him for another 36. You know the drill.”

“Too well,” she laughs. “Heading home?”

“Yep. I just wanted to say hi again before I go home to crash. I told Voight I'd come in early tomorrow to finally put this to rest.”

“What a guy,” she smiles. 

He laughs. “What are you going to do on your day off tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Maybe a museum? I hadn't given the weekend much thought beyond seeing you,” she admits. 

“I know. Voight looked at me like I was an idiot when I volunteered to come in tomorrow. I believe his exact words were, ‘you realize you're the tenured detective here now? You don't have to pull Sunday duty, it's literally why Ruzek and Burgess and Atwater are here.’” 

“I'm sure they all loved that,” she laughs. 

“It's why you can never leave me here again, Hailey. I'm pretty sure they're gonna gang up on me eventually.”

“Poor baby. You'll survive.”

“Debatable.”

“Mhmm.” She tidies her desk and turns off her computer, gathers her stuff, and heads for the elevator while he complains about traffic. 

“Gotta admit,” she says, stepping off the elevator a minute later, “I haven't really missed driving while I've been here. It's a nice break.”

He laughs. “Okay, but when you get home and I ask you to drive to a scene, it's gonna be _‘too early’_ or _‘too trafficky’_.” 

“Right, like you ever ask me to drive. Pretty sure if your truck got stolen and I got kidnapped on the same day, you'd really have to think about which to look for first.”

“Hailey, that's ridiculous. I'd find you first so you could help me find the truck, c’mon.” 

She laughs. “Right, no. That makes me feel very important.” 

“It should,” he says. 

She exits the building and merges into the crowd of people on the sidewalk, the traffic loud around her. She's tired and her feet hurt from days of more walking than she's really used to. She'd give a lot for Jay’s truck to emerge out of the traffic now, like some knight in matte armor. 

“Hey,” he says. “Let me call you later? Will’s on the other line, I forgot I told him we'd grab a beer tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. Go have fun, might help you sleep sooner rather than later.”

“Maybe. Later, Hailey.”

——————————

“Wait, you almost did _what?”_ Will asks a while later, almost dropping his beer on the bar. 

Jay rolls his eyes. “I was gonna go to New York to see Hailey, but we caught a case.”

“To see Hailey, or to _see_ Hailey?”

“... I don't know what that means, bro. I was gonna go see her.”

Will shakes his head. “Jesus, man.”

“What?”

“It's just… that's a _step._ You don't just go back to normal life after you hop on a plane to spend the weekend with a woman you're not dating.”

“Maybe that's the point.” He takes the last swig of his beer and stands. “I gotta go, bro. Early morning. Wanna come watch the game Thursday?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

He nods and reaches out a hand to clap Will on the back, none too gently. “Night, man. Careful getting home.”

“You too. And don't worry, I'll pay for your beer,” he grumbles.

“Hey,” he calls as Jay gets a few feet away. “This is good, Jay. Don't fuck it up.” 

“Shut up,” he calls, but he's smiling as he heads out the door. 

——————————

My brother might be a good doctor, but he's actually an idiot.  
  


You can’t both be the best Halstead brother.  
  


... I’m the best Halstead brother, right?  
  


... Sure.   
  


Ow. Your sarcasm hurts more than the last time I was shot.  
  


It’s the fact you have to say “the last time” that really does it. Go to sleep, Jay.  
  


——————————


	11. Chapter 11

_“Everyone has a weakness, but I have two;_  
_Everything you say and everything you do.”_  
_\-- Shel Silverstein_

She starts her Sunday with coffee and a bagel from a place down the block and then does the most touristy thing she can think of and makes her way to Times Square. 

She'd woken up that morning and thought she'd end up walking through the Met for hours on end, but as she exits the subway out onto 42nd Street and the buzz of people and lights and traffic finds her, she knows she made the right choice. 

She needs the distraction the city provides. If she's honest, she thought she'd be waking up this morning to Jay, his body warm and sure and steady against hers. 

And maybe that's silly. Maybe she shouldn't have let herself think about something so concrete in such an unsettled situation. 

Maybe. But she did anyway. 

(The bed had felt bigger, emptier than usual this morning, and if she'd gotten up quicker than usual, that didn't mean much.)

She wanders through stores and down crowded sidewalks, stands off to the side and people-watches, and by the time her phone lights up with Jay’s face and a FaceTime call, it's early afternoon and she's a little embarrassed to admit how much she's looked forward to talking to him today. She pops her earbuds in and answers.

She's greeted with almost as much noise as the streets around her and instead of just Jay’s smiling face, she's greeted by Kim, Kevin, and Adam too. 

“Hailey Upton!” Adam yells, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Please come back and save me, Hail. I'm severely outnumbered, and by true idiots,” Kim yells, and Hailey laughs. 

In the background, Kevin holds up a peace sign and she waves. They're all in the district parking lot, and she misses them and that cramped parking lot desperately. 

“Hey,” Jay's voice greets her, finally, and she smiles as he comes back into frame. “We're going to get lunch” -- _“and beers!” Adam yells in the background_ \-- _“and beers,_ to cap off this weekend OT.”

“You get your guy?”

“Finally,” he says, stopping in front of his truck. “Guys! Molly’s?”

There's a chorus of yeses and doors closing, and finally it's quiet and just the two of them as Jay closes his door and her view becomes just him from the phone mount on the dash. 

“Sorry,” he smiles. “They _needed_ to see you.” The quiet hum of the truck comes over her earbuds and she watches the familiar movements of him backing out of his spot. 

_“You_ didn't need to see me?”

He glances over at the screen for a moment, and she knows he's waiting to pull out of the lot. “Hailey, I always need to see you.”

She smiles. “Good.”

“Where are you? It's loud.”

“Hang on,” she says. “I know you're driving. But I'm here.” She turns the camera so he can take in the crowd and lights and billboards. 

“That's gotta beat a hotel room or the FBI offices,” he says. 

“That it does.” She watches his face as he drives, his strong jaw, the way he keeps his eyes focused on the road except for the quick glances he makes toward the screen, toward her. 

“Hey,” he says. “This case? It's closed, and I'm glad. But I just… you should know. I could have spun out. But I didn't, and I know it's in large part thanks to you. So. Thanks.”

“Jay.” She's glad he didn't get too close, but. “I didn't do anything.”

He glances at the screen quickly. “You did. You always do.”

She pauses and tries to think of a response that might mean something, might convey some sort of feeling that he seems able to so easily surprise her with, but nothing comes. “That's just part of what works, I guess.”

He smiles, and she recognizes the familiar Molly’s parking lot outside the window. 

“It all works, Hailey.” 

“Yeah.” 

There's a knock on his window and she watches him hold up a finger to who she can only guess is Adam, based on the way Jay rolls his eyes. 

“I promised to buy the first round, so I should go.” He opens the door, but he doesn't move.

“Go," she says. "Have fun.”

“It'd be more fun if you were here.”

“13 days and I will be," she smiles.

He grins. “Yeah, you will. Later.”

“Bye.”

The call ends and she steps back out into the crowd, happy to be in the middle of a fun new city, but quietly wishing she was in the back of a dark, familiar bar. 

——————————

Just accidentally interrupted Kev and his hot bartender making out in the hallway at Molly’s.  
  


Good for him. Guess the brace worked.  


Seems like it. Is that what it takes to get a little action at Molly’s? (Smirking Face )  
  


Quick, Hailey. Come home, my knee hurts. Ow.  


(Face With Rolling Eyes )(Face With Rolling Eyes )(Face With Rolling Eyes )  


Nice try.  
  


Can you blame me?  
  


Nope. But I promise you won’t have to try that hard.  
  


I was right, I would absolutely be having more fun if you were here.  
  


(Winking Face )  
  


——————————

Monday and Tuesday start and end with Jay’s sleepy grin and quiet voice on her phone screen, and somehow, full days of surveillance and paperwork happen in between, but they feel like a blur. 

Wednesday starts the same way, but for the first time since she's been in the city, it's rainy and dreary outside when her phone rings. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, are you still in bed?” She can hear the note of surprise in his voice and she smiles, shifting to prop the phone on the pillow next to her. 

“Okay, you're still in bed too, so let's not get judgy.”

“Yeah, but it's early here and I’m me.”

She laughs. “True. OA’s in court this morning, so I get to go in a little later. Perfect day for it, it's pouring out there.”

“Cozy,” he says. His voice is thick with sleep still, and she wants to spend her whole day listening to it. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

She shakes her head and tucks her hair back behind her ear. “No, I'm awake. I'm just comfy.”

He nods, and she watches him shift to roll on his side. “You do look comfy.”

It's quiet for a moment as she just stares at his slightly pixelated face and bare chest on the screen. She shifts onto her back and runs a hand down her face, laughing. 

“We were having a nice moment, Hailey,” he laughs. “What could possibly be funny?”

“I'm sorry, it's not. It _is_ nice. It's just… if you'd tried to FaceTime me at 8AM, shirtless, like a month ago, I'd have driven to your apartment and punched you in the face.”

He laughs. “Well, you know what they say about absence.”

She rolls back over on her side and just watches him for a moment. 

“You're not going to ask what they say about absence?” 

“No,” she whispers. “I think I know.”

“Yeah. Me too,” he says. They're quiet for a minute, and she knows this is one of those cliched moments she'll have to stop herself from grinning about the rest of the day. 

“Hailey,” he whispers a few moments later, and she raises her eyebrows in question. “Would you have really punched me in the face?”

She laughs, long and loud. 

He gestures to his face as she laughs. _“This_ face? You'd risk injuring this face?”

“God, you're so cocky,” she says. 

He laughs and as it comes across the phone speaker, she's suddenly aware that she desperately wants to hear it in person, next to her in the early morning light. 

(It shouldn't come as such a surprise, or make her bite her lip in a moment of nervousness, but it does all the same.)

“I'm just saying,” he continues. “The face is my moneymaker.”

She rolls her eyes. “I'm sorry, have you _seen_ the rest of you?”

He laughs. “I'm not sure if that's an insult to my face or a compliment.”

She smiles. “It's a good face.”

Outside, she can hear the rain beating against the windows. It echos into the room and she shifts, burrowing further into the plush pillows and closing her eyes for a moment. When she opens her eyes again, he's just watching her. 

“Hailey, you're gorgeous.”

It's quiet, his voice rough, and she just breathes in and out slowly for a moment. It's the first time he's said something so direct, not just a vague idea of flirting or wanting to kiss her. 

It feels _real,_ and god, she wants it to be. 

“Jay,” she starts, even though she's not entirely sure how she's going to finish the sentence. 

_Shut up._  
_I wish you were here._  
_What are we doing?_

And maybe it would have been some combination of the three. 

But a text pops up on the screen before she can figure it out. OA, telling her his court date was canceled.

She has to go. And he must immediately see the change on her face because he frowns slightly. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “OA just texted to say his morning was canceled, so it looks like mine is starting earlier again.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

“Me too,” she whispers. “I'd rather stay in bed.”

“I'd rather you stay in bed, too. Plus, I'm losing my excuse to not go to the gym this morning.”

“You go to the _gym?”_ She fake-gasps, and he laughs. 

“I know, I know. It looks effortless, what can I say?”

She watches him sit up, his sheets pooling at his waist, and yeah, yep, she _has_ to get out of this bed immediately, or she probably never will. 

“It's definitely worth the effort,” she says, and he smiles, quick and easy. 

“Are you going to get up, now that you've forced me to?” He asks, and she bites her lip. 

“I need to, but I'm not wearing any pants,” she laughs. 

“Ooh,” he grins. “I won't peek, promise.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers. _“Shut up._ Bye, Jay.”

“Hey, real quick.”

She pauses, glancing up at the screen. 

“Ten days, Hailey.”

“Ten days,” she echos. 

It feels like a promise, like they could have this morning in person, and it would be even better, somehow. 

She smiles and ends the call and lets herself just sit with the warm, relaxed feeling buzzing through her. 

——————————

The morning had started too well, and now, as she searches for an offender down a back alley in the rain, she knows she let her guard down too much. 

Days that start that good rarely end that way, in her experience. 

The offender comes out of nowhere, the heavy rain masking his footsteps, and before she can even process it or fire her weapon, she's on the pavement, wet and sore, but fighting. 

She should have stayed in bed, warm and relaxed and flirting, _safe,_ with Jay. 

It's the last thing she thinks before the adrenaline kicks in and she blocks out everything but her instincts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and feedback you all have been giving! It means the world, especially lately. 
> 
> (And don't worry about our girl. We all know (and Jay knows) she's a fighter.)


	12. Chapter 12

_“Love will travel as far as you let it.  
__It has no limits.”  
_ _\-- Dee King_

_Yelling._

_Footsteps running._

_A struggle._

_A gentle, concerned voice checking on her, and warm hands wrapping her in a jacket to protect her from the rain._

_Jay?_

_No. Wrong city. The voice is steady, concerned, but not familiar enough, not home enough._

_OA._

_She's safe._

——————————

When his alarm goes off on Thursday morning, he reaches out blindly to silence it. 

Except it doesn't stop, and he realizes it's not his alarm. 

It's his phone ringing, and it's Hailey’s name on the caller ID. She hadn't answered when he called last night, but it had been late, and it's not like she was _required_ to talk to him, so he'd let it go. 

“Hey, stranger,” he says in greeting, but it doesn't get the annoyed laugh he'd anticipated. 

“Did I wake you up?” Her voice is quiet, and a little off in a way he doesn't quite recognize. 

“No,” he lies, because he couldn't care less that she did. “You okay?”

“I need you to not freak out.”

He sits up, immediately. “That's a horrible way to start a conversation, Hailey. What's wrong?”

“Hang on,” she says, quietly, and then he hears the familiar FaceTime alert against his ear. 

He accepts the call and his stomach sinks immediately. 

Her cheek is swollen, there are stitches at her hairline, and scrapes and bruises marble her skin. 

“Jesus,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”

She tries for a smirk, he recognizes the quick quirk of her lips, but grimaces slightly instead. 

She nods. “I swear, I'm fine. It looks worse than it is,” she says, and yeah, he's told that lie before too. 

“What the hell happened, Hailey?”

“I got into it with an offender.” She brushes her hair back from her face and he counts the stitches he can see. 

He just stares, waiting for her to continue.

She sighs. “He was in an alley, I pursued, it was raining and loud and he got the best of me,” she says, and she looks annoyed or embarrassed, maybe. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, because that's really all you can say, even if it doesn't change anything. “Where was-- “

She shakes her head. “Before you even get mad, OA was doing exactly what he was supposed to. We were the only two on scene, he stayed with the first offender and I took off. He came running as soon as we had backup.”

He nods. He knows the same exact thing could happen here, and has. It doesn't make it any better, though. 

She just stares for a couple moments, and he takes the time to look over what he can see. 

“What else can't I see, Hailey?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, just some bruising. A few bruised ribs. No concussion, nothing that won't heal up in time.”

“You sure?”

“Jay.” She smiles slowly. “I promise. The hospital took good care of me. It wasn't the best Halstead brother or anything, but they managed somehow.”

He rolls his eyes, but he's happy she's making jokes. He's seen her like this, bruised and sore, and she's good at insisting she's fine when he knows she isn't. 

“Do you need anything? Are they making you work?”

She shakes her head. “No, I'm under strict instructions to take today off. I can go in tomorrow, desk duty only, if I want to.”

“And you don't need anything?” 

“Just you,” she says, and it's like a punch to the gut, her quiet, vulnerable voice so much more open than she typically is. “This helps.”

“Okay,” he says. “Hailey, I'm so sorry.”

She nods. “I know. I'm okay, I promise. I just wanted to make sure you heard it from me. The special agent in charge has to call Voight apparently.”

“Thanks.” He glances at the clock and sighs. “I'm sorry. I've gotta go if I'm going to be on time. Unless we catch a case, I'm just catching up on paperwork today, so call whenever, okay?”

She nods. “Yeah. You too.”

“Get some rest.”

“I'll try,” she smiles. 

——————————

His head is swimming as he walks into the district a while later. Usually, his morning work out clears his head for the day, but he hasn't been able to shake the image of Hailey’s face, swollen and bruised, and the way she'd sounded as she said she just needed him. 

He's almost to the stairs when Platt calls out. 

“Halstead.” He glances over and she motions to him. 

“What's up, Trudy?”

“Listen, I heard about Hailey. She okay?”

He stares for a moment. “What-- how did you already hear? _I_ just found out an hour ago.”

She levels him with a stare that probably means she's positive he's an idiot. “Jay. I learn more in the first five minutes of my day than you can even fathom.” 

“... Okay.”

She just stares again. “So, Upton?”

He nods. “She's tough. She says she's fine, but. You know.”

“You're worried.” It's not a question. 

He shrugs. “I mean, of course I am. She's my-- “

“Partner, yeah, I know. Do you know her hotel information? I wanted to send her something.”

He shakes his head. “I know the hotel, but I can get the address and room info for you if you need it.”

“Do that.”

He nods, and she just raises her eyebrows. “Oh… now?”

She nods, and yeah, she thinks he's an idiot. 

“Yeah, okay. One sec. Let me call her.”

He calls and leans over the desk to grab a notepad and pen and she eyes him the whole time as the phone rings. 

“Jay, I told you, _I'm fine,”_ she answers, and he grins. 

“I know you are. Quick thing, though. Trudy wants your hotel info, she wants to send you something.”

“... What exactly?” She sounds hesitant and he can't blame her. Knowing Trudy, it could be anything. 

“I don't know, Hailey. Do you want me to ask her? Does that seem like a good idea?” He whispers, turning away from the desk. 

He can almost hear her eye roll. He jots down the info she gives him and passes it across the desk to Trudy. 

“Thanks. Gotta go, you good?”

_“Jay,”_ she says, and he knows the exasperated tone well. “Go. Have a good day.”

“Alright, I know. You too. Later.”

Trudy’s watching him closely as he hangs up. 

“You okay, Sarge?”

She nods and he turns to head upstairs, but her voice stops him. “You know, I noticed you ended up working overtime over the weekend. That's a shame.”

He nods, shrugging slightly. “Wasn't ideal, for sure. But it was necessary.”

“Right,” she says, and her tone tells him she doesn't necessarily agree. 

“I'm gonna…. “ he gestures toward the stairs and waits for her to nod. 

“You don't need my permission to go do your job, Halstead,” she says, and before she can say anything else, he buzzes in and jogs upstairs. 

——————————

Her entire body hurts. 

She knew she'd be sore when she woke up. This isn't the first time she's been through this. 

But somehow she always forgets the way the tiniest movement can make a bruised rib ache, or how the smallest facial tics can tug at stitches. 

She takes a long, hot bath and naps off and on the rest of the day, and besides the pain she’s in, it’s the most relaxing day she’s had in a while. 

By the time dinner rolls around, she’s slept more than she’s been awake, but she finally feels rested. She’s browsing delivery options when a text from Jay pops up.

Did you eat dinner yet?  
  


She smiles, because even states away, there must be some alarm that sounds in him when she’s hungry, some stopgap to keep her from getting hangry.

No. I was just trying to figure that out.  
  


I figured it out for you. Put pants on and answer the door in half an hour.  
  


... Okay. I might have assumed you were bringing me food if it wasn’t for the pants comment.  
  


Yeah, I’m not stupid. I'd never ask you to put pants on, Hailey.  
  


Just bold to assume I wasn’t wearing any.  
  


Not bold, just really, really hopeful. (Winking Face )

She rolls her eyes and flips through the channels for a few minutes, and even though she’d never tell him he was right, she does put on pants right before a knock sounds at the door. She grabs some cash from her bag and answers, trying to brace for the double-take her swollen, bruised face will get. 

A teen boy is holding a big pizza box, but he shakes his head when she holds the money out.

“Already paid for, with tip.” 

She nods, takes the box, and hands him a tip anyway because she worked at her parent’s diner as a teen, and the memory of the way customers barely acknowledged her still makes her sympathetic to all food service workers. 

“Thanks,” she says, and just from the weight of the box she knows it's a deep dish before she even opens the lid. 

She’s dialing Jay before she even sits down. His face pops up on the screen and it’s the closest to home she’s felt in weeks. 

“Before you say anything,” he says, “Will is here, and he’s insisting that I tell you this was _his_ idea because he wanted pizza tonight. It wasn't, and _I_ paid, so factor that into your Halstead brothers ranking, please.” He shifts the phone so she can see Will on the other end of the couch, a similar pizza on the coffee table between them, and the voice of some game announcer on the TV in the background.

“Hey, Hailey. You okay? No concussion? Not too much pain?”

She smiles. “I’m good, thanks, Will. I’m better now, with the right kind of pizza.”

He smiles, and then the angle shifts to put Jay back in the frame. “It’s not Bartoli’s, but Yelp can’t be too wrong. Just figured a little bit of home might help.” 

“It does. Thanks for dinner,” she says. She wants to say more, she wants to keep him on the phone for as long as he'll let her, but she's not gonna be rude. “Go back to your game, have fun with Will.”

“Okay,” he says, but he makes no move to hang up. “But you’re better company.”

She hears Will tell him to shut up in the background, and she laughs. _“Bye,_ Halsteads.” 

She hangs up, but before she digs in, she taps out a quick text. 

This doesn’t count as our Bartoli’s date, just so we’re clear.  
  


I sure hope not. Our Bartoli’s date better not end with me watching baseball on the couch with my brother.  
  


Play your cards right, it could end with me on your couch.  
  


But I hate baseball, Jay.  
  


I promise, baseball will be the last thing on my mind when you're on my couch.  
  


She laughs. 

_When_ she's on his couch. It sounds like a promise, and it's one she's so, so ready for him to keep.

Gonna hold you to that.  
  


(The pizza isn’t as good, but it’s close, and that counts.)

——————————


	13. Chapter 13

_“Missing someone gets easier every day,  
_ _because even though it’s one day further from the last time you saw each other,  
_ _it's one day closer to the next time you will.”_  
_\-- One Tree Hill_

Friday starts with a FaceTime call with Hailey while she’s doing her hair in the mirror and he’s eating a quick breakfast. 

“You know,” he says, watching her try to style her hair so it hides the stitches, “you don’t _have_ to work today. You could take another day to rest.” 

Her eye roll is immediate and unsurprising. “I don’t _need_ to rest, Jay. I’m already going stir crazy.”

“It’s been a _day,_ Hailey.” 

“I’m sorry, who was jonesing so bad for action after six _minutes_ that he made me tell him the play by play of a relatively boring take down?” 

“You say boring takedown, I say sexy, and brave, but okay,” he says, and she doesn’t roll her eyes quite as quickly, but her cheeks do flush slightly, and that’s even better. He watches her mess with her hair again as he gets up to put his dishes in the sink. 

“You look fine,” he assures her, and she turns her gaze on the camera. 

“First it was _gorgeous,_ and then _sexy,_ and now it’s _fine?_ A girl gets a few stitches, jeez.” 

“The stitches just make you look badass,” he laughs, and off her look, he adds, _“More_ badass.”

“That’s better,” she laughs. 

“Seriously, though. You went through something brutal and came out the other side, it's okay for people to see that.”

She nods but doesn't say anything else. She just takes a sip of coffee instead, and he watches her wince as she sets the cup back down. 

“Ribs?”

She nods. “Yeah. You know they take forever.”

“I remember well.” 

She stops messing with her hair. It feels like a win. 

He glances at the clock in the kitchen and frowns. “I've gotta go, Hailey. I owe Kim coffee this morning and don't wanna be late.”

“Yeah, don't keep your partner waiting,” she says, and it sounds like a warning. 

“I'm talking to my partner right now. Pretty sure _I’m_ waiting on _her_ to come home.”

She smiles. “Yeah, well. Eight days, bud. You won’t have to wait anymore.”

It sounds like a promise. 

“Good,” he whispers. “Hey. Take it easy today.”

She doesn't roll her eyes, but he can see it's a close call. “I will.”

He nods and watches her quietly for a moment, the way she glances between him and the mirror as she finishes getting ready. 

“Jay? You have to actually hang up.”

“Yeah, I know.” He waves and ends the call, grabbing his keys and heading out. 

It's not toward the right partner, but it's one day closer. 

——————————

She's still sore, but sitting around the hotel room, missing home, and Jay, and being bored isn't going to get her anywhere. 

So she hangs up with Jay, hails a cab _(“take it easy today,”_ he'd said, and she'll let him win this one) and tries to ignore the stares at what her makeup couldn't cover as she heads up to the squad room. 

She's halfway to her desk when OA sidles up to her. 

“For being so tall, you're eerily stealth,” she jokes. 

“It's that Rangers training,” he laughs. “Doing alright?”

She nods. “Got some good rest yesterday.”

“You know you could have-- “

“Not come in today, yeah, I know. You sound like Jay. I'm not a good sitter. I need to stay busy.”

“I respect that. Kristen’s gonna show you some of the techy stuff that, honestly? Makes no sense to me,” he smiles. 

“We use a white board back home, so I'm sure it'll make _perfect_ sense to me,” she assures him. 

“That's the spirit,” he says, waving and backing up to head toward the elevator. 

She sets her stuff at her desk and goes to find Kristen, already typing away at her desk. 

“Make me a genius, Kristen,” she greets her, pulling over a nearby chair and settling in. 

_“More_ of a genius, you mean,” Kristen laughs, and okay, these people aren’t home, but they’re _good,_ and that's enough today. 

“Sure, let's go with that,” she laughs. 

——————————

Kristen is teaching me all the techy stuff today. Might not remember how to use the white board when I come home.

Seems like a trap to lure you to the dark side.

It’s pretty fancy. It could work.  


Don’t even joke about it.   


Follow me to the dark side, Jay.  


I’d follow you anywhere, but please don’t make me be a Fed, Hailey. I wasn’t made to wear a suit everyday.  


I know we’re joking here, but listen very carefully when I say this.  


You were made to wear a suit, and if you have to become a Fed for that to happen, then so be it.  


——————————

He smiles reading Hailey’s last message as he heads downstairs later that day, but Platt’s voice stops him. 

“Jay,” she calls, and he pockets his phone and heads over to her desk. 

“What’s up, Sarge?” 

“What are you doing this weekend?”

It’s a question that he always wants more time to answer because it’s so easy to get roped into things he doesn’t want to spend his weekend doing. But she’s just staring at him, and he panics a little. 

“Nothing, no plans, why?”

She smirks. “Right answer.” She slides an envelope across the counter to him and he reaches for it, but she holds onto it for just a moment. “Before you open this, I need you to know that I have a pretty big investment in how this turns out. I need to know you'll take this seriously.”

Look, not much scares him. 

The unexpected crack of gunfire in a tense situation? Sometimes.

His (totally rational) fear of needles? Sure. 

Trudy Platt? Yeah. Basically all of the time. 

So he nods, but hesitantly, and she just stares him down as she lets the envelope go. He opens it and pulls out the papers inside, glancing over them quickly.

She’s watching his face when he looks back up at her. 

“So?” It feels more like a challenge than a question, and he nods.

“Yeah, Sarge. I don’t think this’ll be a problem.”

——————————

Her phone rings while she's walking out with Kristen, and she smiles seeing Jay’s name on the screen. 

“Hey,” she says as she picks up, smiling at Kristen in a _just a sec_ gesture. 

“Hey. What are you up to?”

“Just leaving work. Kristen and I are going to go have dinner and then to a gallery opening her friend is having.”

_“Man,_ I'm bummed I'm missing that,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Yeah, I'm sure. What are _you_ up to?”

“Nothing _that_ sophisticated. Laundry. Might grab a beer with the guys.”

“Bummed I'm missing _that,”_ she teases, and it's quiet for a moment as she and Kristen make their way through the crowds on the sidewalk. 

“Hanging out with Kristen this weekend?” 

She shakes her head even though he can't see it. “No, she's going to see family. But I'm going to make her give me a list of all the must-sees for my last weekend in the city,” she says. 

“Good. You should definitely make the most of it. I'm gonna try to pull some strings and get you put on the no-fly list when you get home so you can't leave me anytime soon.”

“That's… dramatic and somehow sweet,” she settles on. 

“Mission accomplished, then. I’ll let you go. Have fun,” he says, and she smiles. 

“I will. Enjoy your laundry,” she laughs. “I’ll call you later?” 

“Actually, I’m gonna try to sleep early. I told Platt I’d help her with something tomorrow, and it apparently requires getting up at the break of dawn.” 

“That’s… nice of you,” she says. “She didn’t give you a choice, did she. What are you doing?” 

“She did not. She also didn't have many details to give me. I’ll call you in the morning, we’ll figure out if we have to be enemies with Platt now.”

“Sounds good. Later,” she says, hanging up and turning to Kristen. 

“Sorry,” she says. “Jay was just checking in.” 

Kristen eyes her, a tiny hint of a smirk on her lips. 

“What?” Hailey asks, laughing.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just have to ask -- and then no more talk of guys for the night. You and Jay… is that a thing?” 

She sighs. “You know that moment where it’s either gonna be a thing or it’s just… not?”

Kristen nods. 

“Before I left Chicago, I thought we were _maybe_ creeping toward that moment and eventually we’d get there, maybe I had feelings, maybe he did. And since I’ve been here, it’s like… “

“You miss him,” Kristen says. “And you definitely have feelings.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Something like that.” 

——————————

She and Kristen stayed out too late, probably, laughing and drinking and having hushed conversations in the gallery when it was pretty clear neither of them _got_ the art. 

She’d walked the long hike back to the hotel after midnight and crawled in bed with aching feet and a wine buzz, and all she’d thought about was Jay. 

She'd wanted him to be there in a way that ached. She'd almost called him once she'd curled up in bed, just to see his face, but she'd managed to restrain herself. 

She knows now, in the light of day, it was the right choice. Calling him just to stare at his sleepy, relaxed face would be... well, it would be girlfriendy, and it would be crossing a line. 

And it would be pretty much the exact same thing she's been doing for the last week. 

She can hear the housekeeping carts down the hallway while she lounges in bed, and she knows that's her signal to get up and not waste her last weekend. 

She cleans up and dresses quickly, and she's just tugging her sneakers on when her phone rings. 

“So, do we have to be enemies with Platt now? What'd she make you do? Manual labor? Filing?” She greets him, and his chuckle is warm and quiet over the line. 

“Actually, I'm not there yet. I guess we'll find out. I just wanted to say good morning, check and make sure you weren't gonna come back as an art snob.”

She rolls her eyes and starts to respond when there's a knock at the door. 

“Hang on, it’s housekeeping, which to be honest, I'm really starting to-- “ she pauses to open the door, and the last word tumbles from her lips in surprise, “-- love,” she finishes, quietly. 

Because it's not housekeeping at all. 

“Sorry,” Jay says, lowering his phone from his ear slowly, a slow, teasing grin making its way across his face. “Not housekeeping.”

——————————


	14. Chapter 14

_“And everything I’ve done / Has brought me to you.”_  
_\-- Joshua Radin (Here, Right Now)_

“Hailey?”

His voice is quiet and far-off, and she slowly realizes it’s because she’s still listening to it through her phone’s speaker and not from five feet away, where he's standing.

“Definitely not housekeeping,” she whispers, finally pulling the phone away from her ear and ending the call. 

He just shakes his head and smiles. “I mean, I can go see if I can talk them into giving me one of the uniforms if that’s what’ll get me in the door.” 

She shakes her head and backs up, holding the door open as he walks in. His eyes stay on her the whole time like he can’t look away, like he’s a little afraid she’s skittish. 

“I-- “ she stops, watching him set down his bag and survey the room, the messy bed, her suit jacket from the night before hanging over the back of a chair. 

He leans against the edge of the table and just watches her. 

“I'll give you a minute to find your words,” he says. 

“Platt-- “ she starts, but his smile turns into a smirk. 

“No,” he says, gesturing to his face. _“Jay._ I swear, if you think you've been FaceTiming with Platt this whole time, this is gonna be a real sad weekend.”

She smiles, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. The thing Platt wanted to send me… was you?” 

He nods. 

“And the thing you were doing for her today was… coming to see me?”

He nods again, grinning a little. “I don't know if I've ever seen you this shocked. This is fun for me.”

“Sorry. I'm just playing catch up a little here. I went to sleep last night wishing you were here, and I woke up and you're here, and it's all very confusing…”

She's moving, crossing the distance between them before she even realizes it. She reaches out, pinching the skin at his elbow sharply, quickly. 

“Ow,” he mutters. “You're supposed to pinch _yourself_ to make sure you're not dreaming,” he laughs. 

“Yeah, well,” she says, shrugging. “I have enough bruises for the week.”

He nods, and she sees more than feels his fingers trace down her cheek, turning her head just slightly so he can take in the mottled bruising and stitches. 

She shudders out a quiet breath as his fingers brush her hair behind her ear and he stands.

“So,” he whispers. “Do we have to be enemies with Platt now? Good surprise, bad surprise?”

She shakes her head. “Definitely not enemies.”

“Good.” 

It's a little surreal, still. She knows she's not dreaming because she feels how she always feels this close to him -- warm, safe, _home._

But. It's different now. There's a tension that hasn't always been there, one that's lived firmly in her mind and on the phone line between them for weeks. 

Before she can think about it too long, or make a move to step closer, a loud knock sounds through the room and she groans quietly. 

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I guess that's _actually_ housekeeping.”

“Unless Platt followed you here, I'm gonna guess so,” she says. 

She pulls back and steps away and his hand falls back to his side as the automatic whir of the door lock sounds and the housekeeping cart pushes in. 

She exchanges pleasantries with the same woman she's seen a few times throughout her stay, and she knows she could ask her to come back. But she watches Jay's eyes track her as she moves away from him, and she knows exactly what would happen the second they were alone in this room. 

And she knows without a single doubt it would be amazing. 

And it would absolutely change everything. 

It would be too much change, too fast to process. 

She nods to the door, a silent _let’s go_ honed from years of silent communication between them, and he follows as she grabs her bag and jacket. 

They walk to the elevator in silence, but she sees him smirk as the doors close to carry them down to the lobby. 

“So, you wished I was here last night, huh?” He grins, raising his eyebrows. 

_“Jesus,”_ she says, reaching out a hand to push him away. Her hand on his chest doesn't move him, of course, and he just grins as she rolls her eyes and drops her hand. “I've forgotten why now.”

The elevator dings as the doors open on a new floor and a family steps on and he moves closer to her to make room. His hand grazes hers, the most innocent touch, and she shivers slightly as he leans down to whisper so only she can hear. 

“Then I guess it's good I'm here to remind you now.”

——————————

He's honestly pretty exhausted. It's been a whirlwind of anticipation and restless sleep and travel since Platt put those plane tickets in his hand. Not immediately telling Hailey was almost excruciating, but it was worth it for the silent way he'd gotten to watch her piece the puzzle together after she opened the door. 

He feels better than he has in weeks now, though, standing beside her on the busy sidewalk outside the hotel. It's weird, in a way he can't quite pinpoint. He feels exactly how he always does next to her -- lighter, more focused, _safe --_ but it's different. 

He's much more aware of exactly where she is in relation to him, and the heat of her hand on his arm as she points out her favorite coffee shop down the block. 

Maybe it's because all he's thought about these last few weeks is how far apart they've been, but everything is heightened now, and in a city teeming with distractions, he can't seem to stop his gaze from settling on her.

“So,” she says, and he waits for her to say more, but she doesn't. 

He grins, and she laughs, glancing away. 

“Is this… is it awkward?” She asks. 

He glances at the crowd spilling around them and gestures, his hand on her arm to pull her off to the side, under the hotel awning. 

She just stares as they move out of the crowd, and yeah, maybe, it is. 

“It might be,” he says, because he doesn't lie to her. “But it doesn't have to be. I didn't come here with the expectation of doing anything other than seeing you, Hailey. It doesn't have to be some big thing.” 

She nods and he recognizes the look on her face immediately. A challenge. 

“It doesn't have to be a big thing, or you _don't want_ it to be?”

_“Hailey,”_ he says. 

She just smiles, because she knows. They both know. 

“Come on,” she says, turning quickly and falling back into the crowd on the sidewalk so he has to hurry to keep up. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Does it matter?” She asks, looking back over her shoulder at him. 

It really, really doesn't. 

——————————

They walk for miles, and she wants to say she'll remember the sights they see, the way she has to look up and up and up to see all of Rockefeller Center or the way she can see the whole city when they make it all the way to the top. 

But mostly, she knows, she'll remember the way she looks back down and over at Jay and finds him watching her quietly. And how it's crowded at the Top of the Rock and he stands with his chest pressed against her back, and she barely remembers what city she's looking out over. 

They walk down Broadway and he tells her about Will’s childhood obsession with show tunes as they wait in line for coffee. She tries not to grin as he automatically gives her usual coffee order to the barista. 

They pass a small diner as they walk and she pulls him inside for a quick lunch. She tells him about the diner her parents owned in Greektown. About how the smell of dish soap and the leathery soft feel of worn, rumpled cash will always remind her of being 15 and having a crush on the UC freshman her parents hired to wash dishes on the weekends. 

He laughs. “So, dish soap and dirty money, huh?”

She rolls her eyes. Sometimes she can't remember why she tells him _anything._

“I'm just saying,” he continues. “If I’d known all along that's all it took…”

She laughs, and the way it makes him look at her feels new and exciting in a way nothing else has. 

“You're an idiot,” she says, but it's fond, and he just grins. 

When they stand to leave a little later, she pulls her wallet out to go pay, and he shakes his head. 

“Hailey, come on. Let me buy you lunch.”

She smiles and presses his wallet back toward him, her fingers brushing against his chest. “I'd rather you buy me dinner,” she says, keeping his eye contact. “Like a date.”

“Like a date,” he echos, and she smiles back at him over her shoulder and watches him turn the words over in his mind as she pays the bill. 

——————————

Her phone rings as they walk out of the diner, and he watches her grimace a little as she twists slightly out of the way of an oncoming group on the sidewalk. She runs a hand over her left side as she answers, and he remembers all too well the sudden ache of pain from bruised ribs. 

He watches her face as she listens for a moment, the way she smoothes her hair back behind her ears into her messy ponytail absentmindedly. 

“Yeah, okay. Not a problem. I'm… 20 minutes away, I think?... _no,_ I’m not _lost,_ OA. I'll see you soon.” 

She hangs up and frowns. “So, any interest in seeing where the Feds make the magic happen?”

“Sure,” he says. “Everything okay?”

She nods. “Yeah. Just some paperwork fell through the cracks yesterday, OA’s there trying to play catch up, and I have to go sign a couple things that can't wait.”

“No worries. Lead the way.”

“Thanks,” she says. 

They fall in step together quietly and it feels just like every time they've walked through a crowd together, until her hand brushes his a couple times and it feels less than accidental. 

——————————


	15. Chapter 15

_“I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen.”_  
_\-- AA Milne_

“Okay, so. Wanna see the _lobby_ of the building where the feds make magic happen?” She asks a little while later, walking back over from the registration desk. “It takes forever to process a guest up, apparently, and I'll be up there for ten minutes tops.”

He shakes his head. “I'm good, I'll hang out down here and try not to get into too much trouble.”

She smiles. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ten minutes, promise. Wanna meet OA if he can sneak away?”

He nods. “Sure. No rush.”

She just stands there though, and he raises an eyebrow at her. 

“I… it's just. Don't disappear while I'm gone,” she says, and he laughs. 

“Hailey, you're gonna have to force me onto that plane tomorrow, I'm not going anywhere now. _Go.”_

“Okay,” she says, smiling. He watches her head off toward the elevator and grins when she turns back to glance at him as she waits. 

He busies himself for a few minutes by looking at a wall of plaques and photos lining a far corner of the lobby, the occasional ding of the elevator opening and people carrying on conversations in the background. 

He hears her voice before he sees her, so distinctive he knows it immediately even after all this time. 

Erin Lindsay is walking through the lobby, surrounded by several other people in suits. 

He's not an idiot, he knew it was a possibility. He just didn't think there was a remote chance of it happening. 

He's off to the side enough, she's in the middle of a conversation, and as she passes, it's obvious she doesn't see him. 

He thinks about catching up with her, calling her name -- would she immediately recognize his voice as easily as he had hers? -- checking to see if she's good after all these years. 

But he doesn't. She looks happy and busy, more put together but still exactly how he remembers her from the good moments. 

He'd thought, maybe, when Hailey told him she'd run into her, that it might stir up some part of him that never got closure, that part of him that waited for Erin to call or come back for months. 

But it never had. Reaching out to her now, even though she's barely 20 feet away, wouldn't be closure for the sake of closure. It wouldn't be closing a chapter of his life -- it would be opening the whole damn book back up just to slam it shut moments later.

It doesn't feel necessary, not for him. Not now. And not for her, probably, either. And explaining what he’s doing here would put Hailey in a position he's not sure she's ready to be in. 

So she passes by and on out the door, a blur of movement and brown hair, and he breathes out a shaky breath as the ding of the elevator sounds again and Hailey's blonde ponytail comes into view. 

“Hey,” she says. “OA is gonna be down in a minute, he got stopped on his way out.”

He nods and tries to return the smile she gives him. She eyes him carefully, and sometimes he wishes she couldn't read him quite so well. 

“You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I kinda did. Erin was just here.”

She raises her eyebrows quickly. _“Okay._ How'd that go?”

“It didn't,” he says, taking a step closer, and he watches her lips quirk in an expression he doesn't quite recognize. “Hailey, I didn't talk to her--” he starts, but a voice stops him. 

“Hey, sorry,” a guy who must be OA calls, walking toward them. Jay steps back and Hailey keeps her eyes on him for a moment as OA reaches them. 

“Hey,” he says, holding out a hand for Jay to shake. “Zidan. You must be Jay.”

Jay nods and shakes his hand. “Halstead, yeah. Good to meet you, man.”

“Likewise. Visiting for the weekend?”

He nods, his gaze falling on Hailey. “Couldn't stay away, I guess.”

“Gotta keep a good partner close, for sure,” OA says. 

“Hailey said you were a Ranger?” 

OA nods and they spend a few minutes trading innocent stories and going through guys they might both know. He can feel Hailey's eyes on him the whole time, and he's really, really ready to have a conversation with her that isn't interrupted by coworkers or housekeeping or hundreds of miles. 

By the time OA’s phone rings a couple minutes later and he says they should all grab a drink while he's in town if they're free, Jay’s sure he's a good guy. Any misplaced anger he could have felt about the stitches and bruising spotting Hailey's face is long gone. 

They shake hands and he heads back toward the elevator and Jay finally gets to focus back on Hailey. 

She just smiles though and nods toward the exit as he opens his mouth to speak, and he follows her quietly. 

It's loud when they exit out onto the street, but she stops off to the side of the busy sidewalk and turns back toward him. 

“I kind of want to get as far away from here as possible to avoid being pulled back upstairs,” she starts. “But, first. Are you sure you don't want to go find Erin and talk to her? I still have her card--”

“Hailey,” he says. “I'm sure.”

She watches him for a moment and nods, and he thinks she'll say something else. It feels like there's more that needs to be said. But she just smiles quickly and nods toward the crowd. 

“C’mon. Kristen said the High Line is a can't miss, and I think we're close to one of the entrances now.”

“You _think?”_ He smirks, following her down the street. 

She shrugs. “So what if we get a little lost. Got anywhere better to be?”

Her arm brushes his as they navigate the crowd, and no, he really doesn't have anywhere better to be, as long as she stays next to him. 

——————————

They don't get lost, to her credit, but it's true they have nowhere else to be, so if she slows down their pace and walks ever-so-slightly closer to him as they walk along The High Line and look out over the city, well. He doesn't seem to mind. 

It's quiet, much less crowded than anywhere else she's been in the city so far, and she immediately gets why Kristen suggested it. Unlike the art she’d tried to appreciate last night, she doesn't have to _try_ here, the installations they pass striking enough they stop occasionally and she takes pictures. 

They're mostly quiet, and it's good, it's _comfortable_ like it always is. When they stop again to look out over the city, she watches his profile for a moment, the way the sun shifts light across his cheeks. 

“Jay,” she says quietly. 

He turns toward her and the corner of his lip lifts in a smile, and she'd recognize it anywhere. 

“About Erin--” she starts, but he shakes his head. 

“Hailey, I swear, if you ask me if I'm sure again,” he says, but he's laughing by the end. 

“No,” she says. “I was going to ask why you didn't talk to her.”

“It happened kind of fast,” he admits quietly. “I thought about it.”

“So you're _not_ sure,”she says, but it's mostly to see the way he mock-glares at her. 

“It's been a long time. And maybe we could have checked in and said _hi,_ or _sorry,_ but her leaving was the right choice for her. And it took a while to realize, but it was the right choice for me, too.”

He pauses, and she just watches his face as he steps slightly closer. 

“I didn't come to New York to see Erin,” he continues. 

“I know that.”

“No, I don't mean now,” he clarifies. “I mean before, when she left. She left, not just temporarily, and I could have come to see her or tried to change her mind, but I didn't.”

She swallows and nods. “Okay.”

“Hailey,” he starts, and their hands brush, and this time there's no playing it off as accidental. “I couldn't even make it a month without seeing you, and I knew you were coming back.”

“I-- _okay,”_ she says, because she's not sure she can say anything more intelligible currently, not with the way he's looking at her. 

“Okay?” he laughs, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “I thought that was pretty sweet, and all you say is _okay?”_

It's the smirky little laugh that does it, that pushes her over the edge. It's weeks of seeing it on her phone screen and realizing she wants it next to her in bed. It's _Jay_ traveling hundreds of miles to see her, and always, always surprising her. 

It's all of that, and the way he's looking at her now as she steps closer, that makes her do it. She pushes up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to his, and it's quick and easy, more _thank you_ than _please,_ over almost before his hand can settle on her waist in surprise. 

“Okay,” she says, pulling back. 

And it's not an earth-shattering kiss. (Except that her world feels entirely different now.)

All she knows is that her heart is racing, his hand is still on her waist, and he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing he can see, like the rest of the city has disappeared and they’re in their own little bubble. 

“Okay,” he echos, smiling slowly, and it's enough to make her mirror the smile back at him. 

It's not some big moment. Like everything else with Jay, it just feels natural, like the right next step, like exactly what was supposed to happen. 

It feels like what she's been waiting for, longer than the weeks they've been apart, longer than she realized. 

His fingers skim her waist, and maybe he feels exactly the same way, maybe he's about to lean in again, but a group passes and kids yell in happy laughter and they both zone back in, the world comes back into focus. His hand moves from her waist, down her arm, and he intertwines their fingers, runs his thumb across her skin like he's done it a thousand times. 

It's brand new, though, and maybe more than anything else today, it feels exactly right. 

He nods over his shoulder and adjusts his grip on her hand as they start walking, and if someone had told her a month ago she'd be walking through New York City holding hands with her partner, well. 

She probably wouldn't have believed it, really. 

“Just couldn't wait until that first date, huh?” He asks, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Didn't want you to have to think about it _all_ day,” she teases. 

He laughs. “Yeah, I think you're giving me a little too much credit. If anything, I'm thinking about it _more_ now.”

She squeezes his hand and smiles over at him as they sidestep a family on the path. “Maybe that was exactly my plan.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re trouble, Hailey.” 

She just flashes him a big smile as they continue walking.

——————————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will likely be either an alternate scene or some kind of coda to this chapter at some point (once the full fic is posted) because it's the one chapter I'm not entirely sure is _finished._


	16. Chapter 16

_“He touched my soul long before I knew what his hands felt like.”_  
_\-- Nikki Rowe_

By the time they reach the end of The High Line, they've walked so slowly and stopped to look at so many art installations that it's nearing sunset, and she tells him Kristen recommended a restaurant not far away. 

“Lead the way, city girl,” he teases, and she just rolls her eyes and pulls him along. He'd follow her anywhere regardless, but he's got to admit it's more fun when he's holding her hand. 

They settle at a small table at a rooftop restaurant a little while later, the pastels of the sunset stretching out across the skyline before them, and her knee pressed against his thigh under the table. 

Once the waiter has brought their beers and left with their orders, he just watches her look out over the city for a minute, the quiet way she always takes everything in. When she turns back to him, she lifts her lip in a half-smile and all he can do is smile around the lip of his beer. 

“We've eaten a million meals together,” she says. “This one shouldn't feel any different.”

But it does, and he feels it too -- the way she'd quietly slid her chair just a fraction closer to him as they sat down, the way he'd rather watch her than the skyline or the people around them. 

The way he can't stop his gaze from settling on her lips as she takes a pull from her beer bottle. 

“You didn't kiss me before any of those meals,” he says, watching the way her eyes light with silent laughter. 

“Or after,” she whispers, and this time, his surprised laugh isn't silent. 

“That either,” he laughs. 

“You also didn't travel 800 miles for any of those meals,” she says, and he shrugs. 

“I would have,” he says, and she just nods, like she knows it's true. 

“I have to know,” she says a moment later. “How'd the thing with Platt happen?”

He must make a face because she laughs immediately. 

“She makes you _so_ nervous,” she laughs. 

“Hailey, I'm _positive_ she could have me killed and no one would even realize I was missing.”

“She _is_ pretty badass,” she agrees. 

“You _would_ think that particular brand of badass was impressive,” he laughs, toying with the label of his beer bottle. 

She shrugs, and he just grins. She raises her eyebrows in a clear motion for him to continue, and he clears his throat before meeting her eyes again. 

“She, uh. First, she told me that she was very invested in how this turns out.”

_“This?”_ She asks, and he's pretty sure she knows. She has to know. 

He nods, picking at the shredded beer label. “This _thing…”_ he says, gesturing between the two of them, “between us.”

He watches her hide a tiny quirk of her lips against the mouth of her beer bottle. 

“She slid an envelope across the counter, all very old school Chicago mafioso--” He demonstrates, pushing his napkin across the table toward her, letting his fingers just brush hers before pulling away. 

“That seems right,” she laughs, but it's quiet, quick like she needs him to continue without interruption. 

“Mhmm,” he says, pausing to take a swig of his beer before continuing. “And then she told me I had to promise to take this seriously.”

He wouldn't notice the quick look of surprise that crosses her face if he hadn't spent years of his life silently communicating with her and reading her tells. He almost misses the quick lip-bite that tells him she's trying to find her words before she speaks. 

“And did you?” It's quiet but laced with that familiar Hailey tone, a challenge he can never seem to back down from. 

He twists the bottle in his hands, the condensation streaking the table, and just watches her for a moment. 

“I'm here, aren't I?”

There's no missing her expression now, the quick smile that dimples her cheek or the way she cocks her head just slightly as she watches him. 

“Yeah, I guess you are,” she says. 

Under the table, her leg shifts against his, both knees pressing against his thigh. 

He swallows, but doesn't move. 

“Supposedly, when she asked for the hotel address, she was just going to send you flowers. But of course, she has an airline _guy_ and apparently, he got tickets that were cheaper than the florist, so she said, and here I am.”

_“Of course_ she has an airline guy,” she laughs. “She's so badass. _Devious,_ but badass. _She_ could probably _actually_ get me on the no-fly list.”

“I’m gonna have her look into it,” he jokes. “Anyway, long story short, apparently I'm better _and_ cheaper than a floral arrangement, so.”

She takes a pull from her beer and he watches the way her throat moves as she swallows. The smirk she gives him as she sets the bottle down tells him it wasn't at all subtle. 

“Shame you're not as pretty,” she winks, and he's never wanted to kiss the teasing smirk off her lips more. 

And he’s pretty sure he could just lean the few inches across the table and do just that. It’d probably be just grossly romantic enough, with the sun setting around them and their legs all but entangled under the table that she'd roll her eyes at him, and he'd be forced to do it all over again, but their waiter sets a tray down in front of the table and he pushes the desire down a little further as they begin their meal. 

——————————

Once they'd started eating, the nervous energy she'd had sitting down had ebbed, and the familiar ease of meals with Jay had taken its place. 

She'd passed the broccoli on her plate over to him and he'd given her the mushrooms off his without question. 

The food was good, but if she's honest, she probably won't remember the meal tomorrow. 

She'll remember the way Jay looked over at her first when the waiter asked if they needed anything else as he cleared their plates. The automatic eye roll he'd given her as she tried to reach for her wallet as the check came, a reflex of a million split meals, the way he'd mouthed _like a date_ at her as he'd paid. The easy way his hand found her lower back as they worked their way through the crowd leaving the restaurant. 

“Anything else on that list of Kristen’s?” He asks once they make it back out on the street. 

His hand is still warm through the fabric of her t-shirt and it takes her a moment to even remember what he's talking about. 

“Yeah, uh, a few things,” she says, and his fingers flex against her back as he looks down at her. 

_“Okay,”_ he laughs, when she doesn't immediately continue. “Anything you want to do?”

He's not even touching her skin and his fingers, his arm where it brushes her waist, feel hot like a brand, heavy, but she never wants them to move. 

She bites her lip at his words, and something sparks in his eyes. He glances over his shoulder for a moment and when he looks back, he's chuckling, incredulous, but his eyes are fixed on her. 

_“Jesus,_ Hailey.”

“We could go walk through Times Square and see the city lit up at dark, or we could go get dessert, or go find something Off-Off-Broadway and make fun of it for years to come, or…”

She trails off and steps into his space, close enough she can feel the heat and the tension radiating off him as he swallows and keeps his eyes on her face, her lips, the slope of her neck as she looks up at him. 

_“Or?”_ He asks, and she can hear how rough his voice is already. 

“Or,” she says, stepping closer again, and his fingers shift over her back again with just enough pressure, her bruised ribs twinge for a second, but she pushes it down in favor of focusing on the way he's watching her. “If none of that interests you, my hotel room has a pretty good view of the city lights, and vending machines, and there's no show, but I think we could find other ways to entertain ourselves.”

He huffs out a breath and she lifts the corner of her mouth in a smirk. 

“The first options sound good,” he whispers, the fingers of his free hand brushing against her hip, “but I can't even explain how good your alternate plan sounds.”

“Hmm,” she grins. “If you're sure,” she says. 

He just nods and she mimics the motion back at him, pulling his hand from her hip and lacing their fingers together. 

“C’mon.” 

She leads them down the street, down the stairs to the subway, and onto a crowded train with a confidence that only rises every time he finds some new way to touch her. 

When there's one empty seat and he makes her take it and lets his strong, warm body loom over her, bracing himself on the rail above her. 

When he tugs at her ponytail a couple times to get her attention, but then just smiles at her as the train rattles along. 

When the seat beside her becomes empty and she tugs him down to sit next to her, his thigh pressed fully against hers and his long fingers curving around her knee. 

It's loud, and they don't talk much, but by the time they're exiting out onto the street near her hotel, she's positive they could never verbally speak to each other again and they'd still both know exactly what the other wanted. 

When they reach the elevator in the hotel lobby, the tension of the last few weeks, the adrenaline and nerves of him showing up at her door has caught up with her and she's hyper-aware of everywhere their bodies are touching. 

The elevator dings open and they step on, and she's just about to lean into him and let weeks of tension melt away for ten floors when a bellhop pushes a luggage cart in just as the doors are closing and they have to back up quickly to opposite sides to avoid being run over. 

She winces as her back hits the handrail, her ribs and bruises aching, and she sees him frown slightly, watching her. 

In her periphery, she sees the numbers above the doors rising, and it feels like a reverse countdown. 

_One. Two. Three._

He hasn't taken his eyes off her, his body half-obscured by luggage, and when the elevator opens on the third floor and the bellhop wrangles the cart off, he watches her for half a second before he crosses the space between them in two quick strides. 

“You okay?” His fingers brush wispy hair behind her ear, and he waits for her to nod before his fingers cup her jaw. 

He doesn't move though. 

_Four. Five. Six._

_“Jay,”_ she whispers, but it feels loud in the small space. “Kiss me.”

And usually, she knows, someone giving him an order would just bounce right off of him, go in one ear and out the other. 

But he grins and she feels the curve of his lips when he lowers his mouth to hers. 

It's the first kiss she should have given him earlier, the one that makes her smile against him, the one that tells her without words just how seriously he's taking this. 

_Seven. Eight. Nine._

He shifts his fingers on her jaw and his hand finds her waist as she tilts her head. Her mouth opens under his, her blunt nails running over his broad shoulders as he bites gently at her lower lip. 

The elevator jerks slightly, the telltale sign they've reached their floor, and the motion pushes her back against the wall. She gasps out a breath against his mouth and she feels the edges of his lips quirk in a smile as he swallows the noise. 

_Ten._

The doors open, the soft _ding_ barely registers, and it isn't until the doors start to close again that he pulls back and reaches out an arm to stop them. 

She just blinks up at him, his tall frame angled to keep the doors open, until he laughs gently. 

“Hailey? Wanna leave the elevator?”

She nods and eases away from the wall and by his body. She turns to head down the hallway toward her room, his footsteps heavy behind her. 

——————————

The first time she gasps against his mouth, as the elevator jerks to a stop, he swallows it down and assumes she's as overwhelmed as he feels. 

The second time, when he backs her up against the hotel door as she's fumbling with the keycard, he just tells himself her responsiveness is gonna be the slow, pleasurable death of him and kisses the sound from her lips. 

The third time, though, he catches her grimace as he's closing his eyes as she pulls him against her in the entryway of the room. He frowns, but she just kisses him through it, if she notices at all. 

He lets her perch on the edge of the dresser and pull his body between her legs, but when he presses his fingers against her waist to ease her back a little, the noise she makes against his neck is unmistakably a groan, and there's no pleasure in it. 

_“Hey,”_ he whispers, pulling back. 

She shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she mumbles, reaching back out for him. Her lips ghost over his jaw and her hand runs over the back of his neck, and he knew they’d be good at this part of _this_ _thing_ but he had no clue how quickly he’d be _completely_ gone for her. 

He drags his fingers down her back to pull her closer, but she hisses against his neck and he can feel she’s trying to muffle it against his skin. 

_“Hailey,”_ he whispers, pulling back slightly, but she shakes her head. 

He's not sure he's ever wanted anything more than he wants to just lean back into her and let this play out as naturally as it already has, let her lips find his neck again as his hands roam her body. 

But he feels her flinch as she starts to lean back in, and he pulls all the way back and studies her face for a moment.

“Okay, you're _clearly_ not fine,” he says, more forcefully this time. 

She closes her eyes briefly and he frowns. “My ribs and bruises are more tender than I thought, I guess,” she admits, and each word sounds like it's being drug out of her. 

His hands skim to the hem of her t-shirt, and his eyes flick to her face, checking before he edges the material up slightly. This isn't how he should be touching her warm, smooth skin for the first time, he's painfully aware, but he has to check. 

Even with the fabric just a couple inches up her torso, he can see mottled bruising marking large swaths of her skin, shifting from reds to blues and purples, and he curses quietly. 

“Hailey, you said it wasn't that bad.” He lets her shirt fall back in place, even as all he wants is to find some way to soothe her. 

“I said it would heal up in time,” she corrects him, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the cotton of his shirt. 

_So stubborn._

He traces his fingers down the side of her face, where the bruising is less noticeable but the stitches still stand out, dark and even against her hairline. “Obviously, three days isn't enough time,” he says, and she nods. 

“I didn't think it would still hurt like this,” she whispers, pulling at the fabric of his shirt over his stomach. “And then everything else felt _so good_ I thought that would block it out,” she finishes, drawing him in a little closer. 

He's only human, and she's gorgeous, so he lets his lips graze the corner of her mouth slowly before he pulls back, bracing his hands on her thighs. 

“Hailey,” he whispers, running his hands up her thighs slowly, “when we do this, I don't want you in pain or focusing on _anything_ other than how good it feels.” He lets his thumbs dig into her thighs a little as he leans forward and his lips find the shell of her ear, his voice low. “And I promise, it's gonna be _so_ good.”

She's smirking as he leans back. Her hands cover his on her thighs and she runs her fingers up his forearms. 

_“So_ cocky,” she laughs. 

He just winks and smirks right back at her. “Just confident. It's us, how couldn't it be.”

She just nods and pulls him back in with her hands on his shoulders now, presses her lips to his slowly, and he's pretty sure the noise he kisses away this time is a moan. 

She's absolutely gonna be the death of him. 

She pulls back and presses her hands to his chest, pushing him away with a fake air of drama. “Fine,” she sighs. “If you insist, we'll wait. Just know I won't stop thinking about it.”

“I'd try to lie and say that was exactly my plan, but clearly, that's not true.” 

She just rolls her eyes and smiles at him, taking the hand he offers to ease herself off the dresser. 

They stand there for a moment, close, but not close enough to fall back into anything, until she glances out the window and turns back to him smiling. 

“C’mon,” she says, reaching out for his hand. “Let’s go get a little lost. I want dessert.”

——————————


	17. Chapter 17

_i like my body when it is with your  
_ _body. It is so quite new a thing.  
_ _Muscles better and nerves more.  
_ _\-- e.e. cummings_

They don't get lost, but she points them toward the lights of Times Square, where she'd passed by in the cab, tipsy and wanting him, just a couple of weeks ago. 

And now he's here, laughing next to her under the bright lights, surrounded by people on all sides, and it's not the ideal way she'd have chosen to spend the evening, but it's still so good she has to remind herself it's happening a couple times. 

They wait in line for cheesecake at Junior’s, and Kristen was right to put it on the list. Hailey’s pretty sure she’ll dream about the chocolate mousse cheesecake (and the way Jay leans across the table and runs his thumb across her bottom lip, wiping a streak of chocolate away.) 

They stop for a beer on their slow walk back to the hotel, and she thinks about texting OA to see if he’s up for meeting them, but she sits and watches Jay wind his way back to her through the crowd from the bathroom, and she can’t bring herself to send the text. She wants to be a little selfish, wants him all to herself, doesn’t want to risk the haunted, sad look that crosses his face when the war comes up. 

They have better things to focus on, and it’s only confirmed when he smiles at her as he reaches the bar. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you checking me out on my way back over here,” he grins, his voice low as he leans into her space. 

“Me and half the bar,” she says, rolling her eyes as he immediately smirks. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, like _what are you gonna do?,_ and she laughs, reaching out to push him off the barstool. 

Of course he doesn’t budge, and he catches her hand before she can pull it back, settling their joined hands on his knee. “Difference is,” he says, watching her for a moment, “Only one _I_ was checking out was you.” 

She bites her lip, watching him turn her palm face-up on his knee, his fingers tracing silly shapes against her skin. “Well, good. I don’t _really_ feel like having to fight a girl tonight.” 

“Are you _sure?”_ He asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not saying I could be into that, but I’m not _not_ saying that.” 

_“Yeah,_ keep dreaming,” she laughs. 

His fingers run up and over her wrist and he grins as she automatically shivers just enough to be noticeable. “Oh, I will.” 

She just shakes her head and grins, looking out over the crowd. 

His fingers run over her pulse point lazily for a couple minutes while they people-watch, and it’s so casual and relaxing it lulls her into a lazy, post-cheesecake, post-beer haze, and she yawns, turning back to him. 

“Am I _boring you?”_ He teases, and she shrugs, making a _so-so_ gesture with her free hand. 

“Ouch. Couldn’t even make it past the first date, huh?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I mean, you should probably just hop in a cab to the airport now, really.” 

He drags his nails down her palm as he stands, making a move like he’s about to walk away. “We made an honest effort, I guess,” he jokes, smiling down at her as she reaches out to grab his hand. 

“I’m kinda tired, too,” he admits, reaching for the last swig of his beer. 

“Poor baby,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip in a mock pout. “You did get up pretty early.” 

“Worth it,” he grins, gesturing to her beer. “Want another?” 

She shakes her head and tugs at his hand as he reaches back for his wallet. 

“Jay, you can’t pay for _everything,”_ she says. 

He just fixes her with a look as he throws a couple bills on the counter and signals to a bartender down the way. He turns back to her and leans in, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “This is still the first date,” he whispers. “You can pay next time.” 

She stands as he steps away from the bar, and it only takes her a moment this time to get over the surprise of him lacing their fingers together. “Someone’s pretty confident he’ll get a second date,” she says, and she doesn’t have to be looking at him to know he’s smiling as he leads the way out of the bar. 

“Walk or cab?” He asks once they reach the street. 

She wants to see more of the city at night, but her body still aches some, and it’s been a long, emotional day. She wants the excuse to touch him that walking through the city at night easily provides, his hand warm in hers. But she knows she doesn’t _need_ that easy excuse, not now, so she gestures toward the street, where cabs whiz by, stepping out to hail one. 

Just like she’d wanted his truck to appear out of the traffic the other day, a cab pulls up alongside them and she gives the cabbie the hotel address as they settle in. Her hand finds his knee and she runs her nails across the denim of his jeans as the lights blur by outside. He turns his head to her and presses his lips to her temple, and she expects it to be a quick, fleeting thing, as sweet as it is. But he lingers, and she realizes he’s watching the shifting billboards and hazy headlights out the window over the top of her head. 

She doesn’t move a muscle beyond her fingers on his knee, drawing nonsense shapes ever so slightly higher and higher up his thigh. She feels him smile against her and she doesn’t want to forget the way the lights of the city zoom by, but she closes her eyes all the same. 

She doesn’t want to forget this, either. 

——————————

By the time they make it back to the hotel, she's tired but relaxed and at ease in a way she hasn't felt in too long. 

They're alone on the elevator this time, and it takes him all of two seconds to guide her lips to his, a hand on the back of her neck. She lets herself fall into it, runs her hands up his solid chest, and opens her mouth under his. His fingers hook in one of her belt loops and he keeps her body close even as he pulls away too soon a few moments later. She laughs against his cheek and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. 

“What’s funny?” He asks, running his thumb back and forth over her hip. 

“Nothing, it’s just. You gonna kiss me every time we’re on an elevator now?” 

“Hailey,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across her lips, “I’m gonna kiss you _anywhere_ you let me, _every time_ you let me.” 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs. “Then I guess the answer to my question is yes,” she laughs, leaning back in just as the doors open. He grins and kisses her quickly, and she follows him down the hallway.

His phone buzzes as she’s unlocking the door a minute later, and she watches him swipe it open and laugh. 

“Hmm?” She asks, distractedly, opening the door and watching him follow her in. 

“It’s Ruzek, checking to see if I wanna go get a beer with him and Kevin,” he says, and she watches him type out a quick message as she kicks off her shoes, plugs her phone into the charger on the nightstand, and rummages through the dresser for clothes.

“I thought you were going out with them last night,” she says, pulling a long, baggy UC shirt and shorts out and heading toward the bathroom. 

He rolls his eyes. “Adam got a better offer last minute,” he says, glancing up from his phone. 

“I’m gonna--” she gestures toward the bathroom, and he nods, glancing at the clothes in her hand. 

She pushes the door shut and strips out of her clothes, examining her bruised torso in the mirror for a moment before slipping into the new shirt and stepping into the shorts. 

“Kim?” She calls, and she hears him chuckle.

“We’ve been over this -- _Jay,_ I’m _Jay.”_ His voice carries into the bathroom and she rolls her eyes in front of the mirror, reaching for her toothbrush. 

_“Kim_ was the better offer he got, right?” She continues. 

“Oh, clearly,” he calls. 

“Smart guy,” she laughs. She can hear the zing of a zipper and the rustle of clothes, and she knows he’s changing just a few feet outside the door. It’s distracting enough she has to force herself to finish brushing her teeth and washing off her makeup before she pulls the door open and steps back out. “Told you they’d figure it out,” she says. 

He sets down his phone on the nightstand as she comes back in the room and grins, holding up his toothbrush and walking around the end of the bed. His pajama pants are soft as he steps close enough to brush her legs as he walks by. The neck of her shirt is wide and falls off one shoulder, and she shivers as his fingers ghost over her bare skin as he passes. 

She listens to him move around the bathroom as she putters around the room, hanging her suit jacket from the night before and putting her bag on the hook in the closet. She feels a little antsy, even though she’s tired, and she knows it’s because she’s about to get in bed with Jay for the first time. In all the times she’d thought about wanting him next to her at night, or early in the morning with his sleepy grin on FaceTime, she’d never actually _thought_ about the moments leading up to it and what it would mean. 

How it would be a conscious choice and not just a thing that happened randomly. 

How she doesn’t just want it to happen in a fit of passion or as a soft landing for their entwined bodies. 

How she’s pretty sure she’ll want it to happen again and again, in city after city, in bed after bed. 

The bathroom door opening jolts her back into focusing, and she glances up as he clears his throat. 

“Oh, by the way,” he says, walking around the end of the bed again, “Pretty sure you got a text while you were in the bathroom.” 

“Thanks,” she murmurs, crossing over to the nightstand, because at least it gives her something proactive to do. 

She picks up her phone and unlocks it, giving him a quick look before she reads. 

I was under the hopeful impression you didn’t wear pants to bed.  
  


She laughs and rolls her eyes, looking back up at him. She types out a quick message and just watches him as his phone vibrates and he leans down to pick it up, not taking his eyes off her. 

FaceTime led me to believe you sleep shirtless. I’m a little disappointed.  
  


“Only a _little_ disappointed?”

“Ehhhh,” she says, shrugging like it’s not the only thing she can think about now. 

He grins, and it’s quiet for a moment. She just watches him, the quiet way he’s taking her in, the text that was clearly a joke to break the tension he’s probably feeling too. The way his shirt shows off his arms, and how she wants to run her hands up his chest without the fabric between them. 

The way she knows he’d never actually pressure her into anything, and how he showed that to be true this afternoon already. 

She reaches for the waistband of her shorts, tucking her thumbs into the fabric, and pauses, watching his eyes track her movements. 

“Hailey--” he starts, but she shakes her head and shimmies out of her shorts, kicking them off to the side. Her shirt is long enough that it skims the top of her thighs, so he’s really not seeing much more than he did before, but it feels like a moment she’ll remember, the quiet breath he lets out and the way he can’t seem to stop his lips from quirking into a small, surprised smile. 

She’s just about to pull the comforter back and crawl into bed when his smile turns into a teasing grin she knows well and he reaches for the back of his collar to pull his shirt off. 

“Okay,” she whispers, because she’s pretty sure she couldn’t form a more complex sentence if she tried. She’s seen him shirtless, so she’s not _surprised,_ but it was never like this -- never in the dark of a hotel room with only a bed between them. 

It’s overwhelming, to say the least. 

_“Okay?”_ He laughs. “You’re gonna give me a complex, Hailey.” 

She rolls her eyes. _“Right, super_ worried that you don’t actually know how gorgeous you are.” She pulls back the covers and crawls in bed, because if she doesn’t now, she’s afraid she never will, like she’ll be stuck in some time-space continuum where all she can do is stare at him. 

It wouldn't be the worst place in the world, but when he pulls back the covers on his side and slides in next to her, so casually it's like he's done it a hundred times, she knows she made the right choice. 

She turns on her side to face him and he does the same, and it's exactly the same position she was in on Wednesday morning, it's exactly what she'd thought they could have if he was here. 

And he is now. 

“Hey,” she starts, pitching her voice quieter, maybe because it's dark, or late, or she wants him to have to lean closer to hear her. “I didn't say it earlier, but I'm glad you're here.”

He smiles. “Me too.” There's enough light streaming in through the curtains that she can make out his hand reaching out to run through her hair before she feels it. 

His fingers pluck at the elastic of her ponytail holder and he raises his eyebrows. “Can I?”

She nods, and he works the ponytail holder out of her hair, and it's silly, but it almost feels like the most intimate thing they've done. 

His fingers comb through her hair and she smiles, turning her head slightly to press a kiss against his wrist. 

“I never asked,” she whispers, and his fingers stumble along her jaw as it moves. “What time do you have to leave tomorrow?”

He frowns slightly, like he'd almost forgotten that was a thing he'd have to do. “My flight leaves at 4,” he says. “But I don't wanna think about that right now.” 

The bed shifts as he moves closer and she turns her face to hide a smile into the pillow. 

“You were right, you know,” he whispers, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“I usually am, but about what specifically?”

He just rolls his eyes jokingly as his left hand plays with the hair fanned out over her head on the pillow, and his right trails down her neck. 

“FaceTime doesn’t do you justice,” he says, and she wants to roll her eyes, it’s her automatic response, but she smiles instead. 

“I know the feeling,” she whispers, reaching out a hand to drag her nails down his chest. 

She’s the one who moves closer this time, even though her body aches a little as she does it. When she’s close enough, he leans in, and it’s the first kiss that feels hesitant, like he’s not entirely sure how she’ll respond. 

She smiles against his mouth though, and that seems to be all the answer he needs, because his fingers cup her jaw and her mouth opens under his slowly. She drags her fingers back up his chest and around to the back of his neck, scratching up through his short hair. His lips stutter against hers as he lets out a small groan, and she takes the opportunity to bite at his lower lip as he pulls back slightly. 

She drags her nails through his hair again and he closes his eyes. She feels his chest move in a shuddery breath against her, and she grins. “When was the last time you _just_ made out with someone on a first date?” 

He grins right back at her. “It’s been too long, obviously,” he whispers. 

“Mmm,” she murmurs. “Wanna change that?” 

_“God,_ yes,” he says, already leaning back in. 

She’s laughing as his lips find hers again, and as he swallows the noise down she can’t help but think about getting out of bed early last weekend because it had felt so empty without him, when he hadn’t even been in it yet. 

Now there’s nothing empty about it, and he’s hot and steady and _so good_ against her, and she never wants to leave this bed again, or let him out of it.

——————————


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating for this fic. It doesn't necessarily apply to this chapter, although it is more adult in comparison to prior chapters, but will absolutely apply for later chapters. The chapter count has also been updated.

_“People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth,_  
_when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me' -- that's intimacy.”_  
_\-- Taylor Jenkins Reid (The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo)_

__

He doesn’t know how long they make out, or how many times his lips find hers or his hands run through her hair. He probably can’t count that high. 

__

But he knows it’s not _enough,_ and by the time they’re just breathing against each other more than they are kissing, and he pulls her body against him to sleep instead of kiss, he knows there won’t ever be such a thing as _enough_ with her. 

__

It’s cliche, but she presses a kiss to his shoulder as she’s falling asleep, and he falls asleep easier, happier than he has in longer than he can remember. 

__

——————————

__

He wakes a while later, and as he comes to, he realizes he’s awake because he reached for her and came up empty. 

__

He rolls over and finds her standing by the window, looking out over the city. The red glow of the clock on the nightstand tells him it’s just past 4AM. 

__

“You okay?” He calls, his voice heavy with sleep. 

__

She looks over her shoulder at him and smiles, and it’s soft and sleepy too, the sass and smirk gone for the moment. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m just not the best sleeper sometimes.” 

__

He nods, sitting up. 

__

“This is my favorite view of the city, I think,” she says, pushing the curtain back further. 

__

He takes her in -- her hair falling over her shoulders a tangled mess from his hands earlier, her shirt hanging off her shoulder, her long, toned legs. 

__

“Yeah, it’s mine too,” he whispers, standing and crossing the room to her. He wants to pull her body back against his, press himself against her, but he’s conscious of her bruises, of the stiff way she’s held her body throughout the day. He settles for standing close behind her and running his hands down her arms, leaning in to press his lips against her neck and down along her bare shoulder. 

__

She sighs and he smiles against her shoulder as she leans her head to the left and elongates her neck, and he takes that as the cue it is to work his way back across her shoulder and slowly back up her neck, sucking and nipping gently until he reaches her pulse point. He presses his teeth against her skin lightly, and from this angle, he can see just the corner of her mouth lift in a smile. 

__

“If you give me a hickey, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” she warns, and he laughs against her warm skin, sucking a quick kiss there before he speaks.

__

“I can stop,” he offers, but his lips barely leave her skin as the words leave his mouth. 

__

Her hand comes up behind the back of his head, her fingers hold him where he is and he breathes out a quiet laugh against her again. “If you stop, I’ll murder you right here,” she whispers. 

__

“Copy you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t really stop anyway.” 

__

She lets out a quiet laugh at his confession, and all he can focus on is how badly he both wants to hear her make that noise all the time and how he wants to kiss the noise away just to taste it on her lips. 

__

She’s gonna absolutely wreck him. 

__

She probably already has, if he’d stop to let himself think about it for longer than the bite of one kiss to the next on her neck. 

__

She moans, a quiet, keening noise, as his lips brush over her pulse point again, and he lingers there, setting fire with his teeth and tongue and soothing with his lips. He brushes her hair back behind her with his left hand as she intertwines their fingers at her side. He’s been hesitant to put his hands on her body, not wanting to cause pain amidst the pleasure, but he sucks in a sharp breath of surprise against her skin as her hand guides his down to the hem of her shirt, rucking it up just slightly so their fingers rest just at the waistband of her panties. 

__

“Hailey--” he starts, but she holds his hand steady and shushes him, turning around to face him and shifting their hands so they end up back in the same place. 

__

“Remember earlier, when I said I wished you had been here last night?” She asks, and he nods. 

__

“When I woke up,” she says, pressing her free hand against his chest to walk him backward a couple steps, “your arm was across my hip, like even in your sleep, you knew any higher would be painful.” 

__

He lifts the corner of his mouth in what might be a smile, but really just feels like a confused expression. “Okay.”

__

“Like you knew exactly what I needed,” she continues. “Like you always do.” 

__

He shakes his head slightly. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

__

“Shh,” she whispers. She presses him back a couple more steps. “Your hand was on my hip, and I thought, ‘I wish he didn’t have to leave.’” 

__

He starts to speak, but she shakes her head. “So I got up because I didn't want to wake you up. But barely two minutes later, like you knew I was gone, you woke up. And suddenly, just like you knew what I needed, your mouth was on my neck. And I thought again, I wish you didn't have to leave. But then. I realized you’re _here, now.”_

__

He nods, kind of dumbfounded, and her palm presses him back again until his legs hit the edge of the bed. She presses again, barely a tap, and he goes down easy, settling on the bed and pulling her between his legs with his hand still in the waistband of her panties. 

__

“You're here, now,” she repeats, letting his hand go and placing both of hers on his shoulders. “And just because sex might have to be off the table, for now, that doesn't mean we can’t make the most of the time we have.” She presses a knee to the bed beside his thigh and he pulls her in with his free hand on her other leg, so she's straddling his lap. 

__

_“Jesus,_ Hailey,” he whispers. That smirky, sassy little grin is back, and he can't stop himself from leaning forward to kiss it, to feel it curve against his lips. 

__

She shifts in his lap as he kisses her, and his fingers brush down below the waistband of her panties. She bites at her bottom lip when he pulls back, running her fingers down the sides of his neck. 

__

He presses his lips to her ear. “I will gladly do _whatever_ you want,” he whispers. “My only problem will be having to wait a week to do it again _and again and again,”_ he trails off, biting at her earlobe gently. 

__

She’s frowning slightly when he pulls back, and he laughs.

__

“You were so focused on what present-Hailey wants you forgot about future-Hailey, huh?” 

__

She rolls her eyes a little, but nods. 

__

“Yeah, been there,” he smiles. “You call the shots here, Hailey.”

__

She leans forward quickly, probably to kiss him, but she grimaces and he feels her body stiffen over him, and her face presses into his neck. He draws his hand away from her panties and rubs his thumb gently over her hip. 

__

“I’m okay with whatever you want,” he whispers. “I’m _not_ okay with you being in pain, though.” 

__

“This is _so_ stupid,” she groans, her breath tickling his neck. “I've never been more annoyed by an injury.” 

__

“Not a big fan of it, myself,” he assures her. 

__

“I’m sorry,” she says, and her lips press against his neck for a moment until she pulls back. 

__

“Hey,” he whispers, pressing his fingers against her thighs until she looks up at him. “I already told you, I didn’t come out here with any expectations. I’m good just like this.”

__

She nods, but he can see she isn’t fully convinced. 

__

“Plus,” he continues, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her shoulder again, “Sometimes, anticipation is almost the best part.” 

__

Her laugh ghosts against his ear, and her hands press against his chest until his back hits the mattress. Her hips move against him as she leans down, and he groans at her teasing grin. 

__

She’s gonna wreck him, and she _absolutely_ knows it. 

__

“Trust me,” she whispers, her lips at his ear, her body pressed against him. “The anticipation definitely won’t be the best part.” 

__

She presses her lips to his and he tangles a hand in her hair, letting her control the kiss for a long minute. Her teeth bite at his lower lip, and her lips soothe the sting, and by the time she pulls back, it’s all he can do to not immediately pull her back to him. 

__

Her face is flushed as she pulls back, and he’s aware he’s breathing heavier than normal. 

__

“Yeah, no,” he whispers, his voice ragged even to his own ears. “Anticipation definitely isn’t gonna be the best part.”

__

She’s grinning as she sits up and gingerly moves off of him, and he misses the warmth of her body, the drag of her lips, already. She scoots so she’s laying back in her original spot on the bed, and he turns onto his side and runs a hand up her calf. 

__

“Anyone ever told you you’re evil?” He asks, but his voice is teasing and she just shrugs, grinning. 

__

“Maybe,” she says. 

__

_“Maybe,”_ he mimics, shifting and letting his fingers breeze across her knee as he moves to lie next to her. “Hey, earlier?” He asks quietly. “I wish I didn’t have to leave, either.” 

__

“Good,” she whispers. She yawns, turning her body into his chest. His arm wraps around her hip again, and her legs tangle with his. “You’re not gonna yell at me when I try to wake you up in a little while, so we don’t sleep away your last morning, right? I still wanna do things.” 

__

He raises his eyebrows at her. _“Do things?”_ His tone is suggestive, and she just rolls her eyes. 

__

“You’re a hot mess,” she mumbles, her eyes falling closed. 

__

“So you think I’m hot.” Her hand reaches out, and he recognizes the movement already, she’s gonna try to push him away. 

__

_“Mess,”_ she emphasizes, her hand just resting on his chest, not trying to push him away at all. 

__

He starts to respond, but she just shushes him. “Fall asleep with me, Jay,” she mumbles. 

__

He smiles into her hair and brushes his thumb across her hip, and does just that.

__

——————————

__

When she wakes up again, light is pouring through the window and Jay’s chest is warm and steady against hers. He’s breathing deeply, and she doesn’t really want to wake him, but a glance at the clock tells her it’s almost 10, and she wasn’t lying when she said she wanted them to do things that didn’t involve staying in bed. 

__

She runs her hand down his arm, over muscles that have only ever had her back and kept her safe, muscles that move so effortlessly and with such strength she’s surprised they can move so gently against her. 

__

Her lips press over his collarbone, against his shoulder, drift toward his neck before he so much as flinches and automatically pulls her body closer with his arm still securely across her hip. She grins and drags her lips slowly up his neck, sucking at his earlobe and running her nails up the back of his neck into his hair. 

__

“Dangerous game, Hailey,” he mumbles, his voice laced with sleep, sexy and rough next to her. 

__

_“Oh?”_

__

His hand skims down over her hip to her ass and back up quickly, and she gasps out a quick breath against his ear. “The only time I’m a morning person is when there’s a gorgeous woman in bed with me, and I promise you,” he whispers, his hand dragging down her thigh, “it doesn’t involve getting out of bed.” 

__

“Jesus,” she whispers, but it comes out as more of a gasp against his skin. 

__

She thinks about some future morning, when she’s _home_ and not facing the prospect of him leaving in a few hours, when she’s not in pain, when this won’t be the first morning they’ve woken up together. When she’ll wake him up exactly like this and let him make good on his promise again and again _(and again and again,_ if she had to guess, based on the way her body feels electrified against him just from these last couple minutes.)

__

“You have no idea how eager I am to find out just exactly what your idea of being a morning person involves,” she whispers, brushing her thumb along the shell of his ear. 

__

His hand skims up her arm, a safer location for all involved, and he breathes out a sigh against her skin. “Just not this morning,” he fills in. 

__

She presses her lips to his neck quickly. “You know what _I do_ when there’s a hot mess of a gorgeous man in my bed in the morning?” She asks, grinning as he rolls his eyes. 

__

“Torture him,” he groans, but he’s smiling as he says it, and she knows he’s good. 

__

“Sure,” she agrees. “But only if _he_ thinks staying in bed for _hours,_ tangled up and sweaty with me, is _torture.”_

__

“Probably won’t know until we try,” he grins, tugging at her hair gently. 

__

“Mmm,” she murmurs. “We gotta get up. I have plans.”

__

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t move at all. “Just, kiss me first? Please,” he says, grinning at her.

__

She can’t say no to that, and it should worry her he already seems to know that. She presses her mouth to his, biting at his grin, moaning into his mouth as it opens and he immediately deepens the kiss, his fingers twisting in her hair and holding her to him.

__

“You’re playing dirty,” she mumbles against his lips as she pulls back a few moments later.

__

“I saw a tactical advantage, I had to take it,” he whispers, smirking at her. “It’s what makes me a good partner.” 

__

“It’s _something,”_ she laughs, leveraging her hand on his chest to sit up finally, running a hand through her hair. 

__

His hand presses against her knee for a moment and she looks back down at him. He reaches over to the nightstand for his phone and motions for her to come closer. 

__

“Feels like a trap,” she says, eyeing him suspiciously.

__

“It’s not a trap,” he laughs. “C’mere, just a second, and then we’ll get up.” 

__

She scoots so she can rest her head back on his chest, its steady rise and fall hypnotizing, almost enough to make her say screw it to her plans and set an alarm to keep him here until the last possible second. 

__

_Almost._

__

He holds his phone out in front of them and snaps a few pictures in quick succession.

__

_Her head on his chest, his sleepy smiling face and his hand in her hair._

__

_Her lips on his chest in her attempt to hide from the camera, his lips quirking in a laugh._

__

_Her hand in focus, trying to block the camera, their faces blurry in the background as he leans in to steal another kiss._

__

“Good?” She asks as he swipes through the photos a moment later. 

__

“Mhmm,” he grins, setting his phone back on the nightstand and finally, _finally_ sitting up. 

__

“I _will_ murder you if you show those to anyone,” she warns, and he just laughs. 

__

“I believe it,” he says. “Those are just for me. To keep me warm on the cold, cold mornings until you come home,” he winks. 

__

“Don’t be a perv,” she laughs, pushing his face away as he tries to lean back in again. “And it’s _April,_ I doubt you’ll be too cold without me.” 

__

“But, there won’t be anyone to be tangled up and sweaty with me,” he teases. “Just being cautious.” 

__

“Mhmm.” She rolls her eyes at him, presses her hand against his knee, and shifts, standing at the side of the bed. 

__

“Hey,” he says, standing too, and turning back to face her. “Just wanted a little way to remember the morning,” he says, quietly, nodding over at his phone. 

__

“The morning my bruised ribs and I severely cockblocked you?” She grins, digging in the blankets for the ponytail holder he’d dropped there last night. 

__

“That,” he says, picking up her pillow and handing her the black elastic hidden underneath, “and the first morning I got to wake up with you.” 

__

She just stares for a moment, watching him go about his normal movements, breathing in and out when it feels like her heart might burst right out of her chest. 

__

He’s so sneakily sweet, she knows it’ll be her downfall in whatever comes next, the casual way he says the little things that stick with her, his easy compliments and grand gesture promises. 

__

“You good?” 

__

His voice shakes her out of it. “Yeah,” she smiles. “Really, really good.” 

__

——————————

__

By the time they’re out on the street and have had coffee and a little breakfast, it’s almost 11, and he’s trying to focus on her, how they’d been in a crowd on the elevator, but she’d smirked and tapped her cheek, all but demanding he reach in and press a kiss to her dimple, the way she’d reached for his hand when they’d made it outside. 

__

He’s trying to focus on _her,_ and not on the fact that he has to _leave her_ in just a few hours. 

__

They pass a tacky I <3 NY souvenir shop on their way to some mystery location she won’t tell him about, and she tugs at his hand.

__

“We should take a sec and stop in there on the way back. I feel like Platt deserves a souvenir.” 

__

He nods, laughing. “You’re gonna make me be the one to give it to her, too, aren’t you.” 

__

“Yeah, obviously,” she laughs. 

__

“Thanks, thanks for that.” 

__

She shrugs, and it’s quiet for a moment as they walk, and he tries to take in the sights and watch her absorb them too. 

__

“Would… “ she pauses, and it’s how he knows she’s trying to back into a bigger question. “Would anyone else need a souvenir from your trip?”

__

It takes him a moment, but finally, it dawns on him. 

__

“Hailey, are you trying to figure out if anyone else knows I’m here?”

__

She rolls her eyes, but he can tell it’s directed at herself. She nods. 

__

“Just Will,” he says. “He’s an idiot, but I’m pretty sure he likes you more than he likes me.” 

__

“Pretty sure that makes him a genius,” she laughs. “What did you tell Adam last night?” 

__

“I told him the truth,” he says, and she glances at him quickly. “I told him I got a better offer.” 

__

“Damn right,” she smiles. 

__

——————————

__

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he laughs, when it’s finally evident to him that’s where they’ve ended up. 

__

She shrugs. “I wanted you to actually see it in person,” she says as they start making their way across. 

__

“FaceTime didn’t do it justice, either,” he grins, pulling her closer as they walk and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. 

__

They stop about halfway across and she stands against the railing, and his arms bracket her, his chest pressed against her back lightly. 

__

“Okay?” He whispers, his lips at her ear. “No pain?”

__

“I’m good,” she says, pulling his right arm further around her and off the railing. 

__

She points out a couple of the buildings she recognizes now, and he points off to one in the distance. “That’s the one I was talking about. Still don’t know what that one is, huh?” 

__

“That one?” She points, and he shifts her finger in the exact opposite direction of where he’d just been pointing. 

__

_“That one,”_ he says, and she laughs. “With all the sides-- “

__

“And the glass, yeah, _I remember,_ you nerd.” 

__

They’re quiet for a couple minutes, watching the traffic and listening to conversations about them, and of all the things he’s happy their partnership has already given them to build… _whatever this is_ on, the ability to just be at ease and quiet with each other is pretty high on the list. 

__

“Hey,” she says, quietly, a minute later. “When I asked if you’d told Adam, I didn’t mean for that to sound like I don’t want people to know.” 

__

He nods, his cheek against her temple. “I know.” 

__

She turns in his arms, and he shifts so they’re each leaning against the railing so her back isn’t taking the brunt of it. “I’m glad Will knows. You might think he’s an idiot, and, please don’t take relationship advice from him, _ever,_ but he’s your brother. It’s good you’re close.” 

__

He nods. 

__

“And it’s nice Platt knows, even though I know she terrifies you.” 

__

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t jump to disagree. 

__

She looks out over the skyline for a moment, and he watches her take it in. Her fingers play a staccato rhythm against his arm and she smiles up at him. 

__

“You know that feeling you get when you’re on vacation when you’re carefree and you think, _I could do this, I could live here, this could be my new life?”_

__

He nods, a little unsure. “Please don’t tell me you’re having that feeling about New York,” he jokes. 

__

She shakes her head. “No. I want to come home. But that feeling... It’s kind of how I feel right now, here, with you.”

__

“Okay,” he smiles, but he’s not sure he gets it. 

__

“I feel closer to you now than I did before I left home.”

__

He nods. “I know. I do too.” 

__

“And I don’t know,” she continues, pausing to look out over the water. “I don’t know if that’s because it was easier for _this_ to happen with a little distance, or if it would have happened if I’d stayed home.”

__

“It would have happened either way. Maybe not as fast, but, still,” he says. 

__

“You sound sure,” she says, smiling.

__

“I’m _sure_ I’m glad it’s happening at all,” he tells her, and she nods. 

__

“Yeah, me too,” she whispers, and the quiet catch in her voice has him leaning in to kiss her before he can even think about stopping himself. 

__

He kisses her slowly, lets himself focus on the way her mouth opens under his, the way her fingers twist in the material of his t-shirt, the way she smirks at him as he pulls back. 

__

“Thank you,” she smiles. Off his eyebrow raise, she continues. “I didn’t know it at the time, but when I was here the first time, when you FaceTimed me half-asleep and shirtless? _That's_ what I wanted to happen. I knew I wanted you here, I knew I missed you. I just don’t think I knew I missed you in that new way yet.” 

__

“That new way?” 

__

“The one where you kiss me,” she laughs. 

__

_“Oh,”_ he teases, “you mean the way I already miss you, since it’s been almost a full minute since I kissed you.”

__

She laughs. “Yeah, exactly like that.” 

__

“C’mon,” she says, when it’s clear they’re just going to stand here smiling at each other like actual idiots. “I don’t want you to have to rush to catch your flight.” 

__

“I’m sure you’d be _really_ sad if I just had to stay another day,” he laughs. 

__

“I wouldn’t be your problem,” she says, lacing their fingers together as they walk back the way they came. _“Platt_ paid for your ticket, and _I’m_ definitely not gonna be the one to tell her you missed the flight and wasted her money.” 

__

He frowns. “Yeah, okay. Good point.” 

__

——————————

__

They stop in the tacky souvenir shop and she wanders through for a couple minutes, holding up random things that he vetoes for Platt.

__

“Jay,” she says exasperatedly after the third item, “It’s a shot glass. Everyone loves kitschy shot glasses.” 

__

“Too much like a weapon, too easily airborne,” he says. 

__

She laughs. “She’s not gonna _throw it_ at you.” 

__

He raises his eyebrows. “Are you _sure,_ though? You’ll be safe here. _I”ll_ be the one in the line of fire.” 

__

She holds up a tacky pencil, twice the size any writing instrument needs to be. 

__

“Hailey, that is _literally_ a weapon. I thought you wanted to come home to me. I need to be alive for that, not harpooned by a giant pencil.” 

__

She rolls her eyes, but puts it back. 

__

“Here,” she says finally, holding up a mug. “She’s obsessed with coffee. She can use it as a mug or a pencil holder. No sharp edges and it’s big enough you’ll see it coming if she aims for you, you’ve got good reflexes.”

__

“Hailey, it says _someone I love went to NYC and all I got was this stupid mug._ I can hear it already. _‘Halstead, I assure you, I don’t love you, but yes, this mug is stupid.’”_

__

She laughs. “She loves _me,_ at least.” 

__

“Yeah, well, she’s not an idiot,” he says, and it’s so automatic he doesn’t even realize the words are going to leave his mouth until they’re already out and she’s just staring at him. 

__

He clears his throat, and she blinks a couple times. 

__

“The uh, the mug works,” he says, reaching out for it. Their fingers brush and his heart shouldn’t be pounding as loudly as it is. 

__

She nods. “I was gonna say you should get something for WIll, but there’s nothing that says _Best Halstead,_ I’m sorry, I already checked.” 

__

He nods, heading for the checkout, and he’s pretty sure if he wasn’t about to have a heart attack, he’d roll his eyes and laugh at her fake insult, a perfect way to divert attention from whatever he might have said. 

__

——————————

__

By the time they’re back at the hotel, it’s late enough that there really isn’t much time before he has to get in a cab to the airport. She didn’t want him to rush, but now, with the sticky feeling of dread creeping in, she’s glad there isn’t more time to focus on it.

__

It’s been a whirlwind of a weekend, and she sits cross-legged on the bed and watches him move around the room, gathering the few things that had migrated out of his bag. His toothbrush, shower kit, phone charger all make it back in his bag and before she knows it, he’s packed and easing his body down next to her. 

__

He glances at the clock and turns back to her.

__

“You’ve got me for ten more minutes, Hailey. Any _really_ close tall buildings you’ve decided you want to push me off of before I go?”

__

She rolls her eyes. “Sadly, they’re all a good twenty-minute walk away. You’re spared this time.” 

__

He nods, his fingers running along her knee. “Hey,” he says, softly. “I am really, really gonna miss you.” 

__

She nods, and he smiles.

__

“You’re not gonna miss _me?”_ He asks, his fingers dragging up her thigh. 

__

“Ehh,” she shrugs. “You were starting to bug me.” 

__

“I’ll just go now then, I mean, what’s an extra seven minutes at the airport, really,” he says, bracing his hand on her knee to stand. 

__

Her fingers encircle his wrist and she pulls him back down to her, grinning. “You _could_ do that,” she says, _“or,_ we could play a fun little game I think the kids still call seven minutes in heaven.” She’s already reaching for the fabric of his shirt to pull him in, and he laughs.

__

“Always coming through with the best alternate plans,” he whispers, already smiling against her lips. “C’mere.” He shifts back on the bed and pulls her into his lap as gently as he can. 

__

She smiles against him, biting at his lower lip and settling on his lap in the same position she’d started out in early this morning. They’re wearing too many clothes, and she’s still sore, and six minutes would never, ever be enough time, but she circles her hips against him slowly anyway, just so she can carry the quick groan he lets out against her mouth with her for the next week. 

__

“You play _so_ dirty,” he laughs, his lips slicking across hers. “You’re gonna wreck me,” he mumbles. 

__

She breathes out a laugh against his skin. “All you’re gonna be able to do is talk to me for the next week, you really wanna spend the next five minutes _talking?”_

__

He doesn’t answer, but he sucks at her bottom lip and licks into her mouth, and it’s answer enough. She drags her nails up his back under his shirt, lets him guide the kiss with a hand in her hair, grins as his other hand sneaks around to the back of her jeans, his fingers creeping into a pocket and pulling her closer. 

__

She grinds down against him in response, and yeah, her ribs protest, but she feels desperate now in a way she hasn’t up until this point, like it’s finally hit her that _later_ is _now,_ and she needs this memory to get her through their time apart. 

__

And she’s pretty sure he feels the same way, because his fingers dimple against the denim of her jeans as she breaks their kiss to press her lips across his jaw to his neck, and he curses quietly as she presses her teeth against his skin. 

__

She loses track of time at that point, and all she focuses on is the way his hands move against her, desperate and on edge, but so, so careful of her injuries, and how he sounds as she finds new areas of his skin to focus on. By the time he runs a hand down her thigh gently, they’re both breathing harder than either would ever admit. His hand is tangled in her hair, and she can’t bring herself to take her lips off his skin. 

__

“Hailey,” he whispers. 

__

“I know.” She pulls back, brushing her thumb over his neck where a tiny remnant of her chapstick slicks his skin. 

__

He pats her thigh and she knows that means it’s time to get up. She stands, holding out a hand for him. He takes it and pulls himself up, but doesn’t let go of her hand. He reaches down for his bag with his free hand, pats his front pocket for his phone, and she follows him to the door. 

__

He turns back to her when they reach the door. “As much as I want to make out with you for ten more floors, will you stay here? Watching you out of a cab window isn’t how I want this weekend to end,” he admits.

__

She nods. “You’ll call me when you get home?”

__

He smiles and nods. “Thanks for pretending I have the willpower to wait until I’m actually home.” 

__

She laughs, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly, just an easy brush of their lips like they’ve done it a hundred times. And maybe they have, by this point, but never as a goodbye. 

__

He squeezes her hand and grins, a little sad, as he lets go, opening the door. 

__

“Safe flight,” she says, holding up a hand in a wave.

__

He nods. “Later,” he says. 

__

The door closes behind him and she takes a deep breath, glancing around the empty room. 

__

A knock sounds at the door as she’s trying to decide what to do next, and she rolls her eyes. 

__

It’s predictable, but it’s sweet, and she knows it’s him even before the door is open. 

__

“Still not housekeeping,” he grins, and she’s laughing as his lips find hers again and he backs up against the open door, pulling her to him. 

__

He kisses her for a long moment, his hands framing her face, and he’s smiling against her mouth as he pulls back. 

__

“Just needed one more,” he whispers. 

__

“I’m not complaining,” she grins. “I _will be,_ though, if you miss your flight and force me to explain it to Platt. I really don’t think she’ll accept _he just needed one more kiss, fifty times. So, go,”_ she laughs. 

__

He laughs but lets her lean in to steal one more of her own before she pulls back. “Six days, Hailey.” 

__

“Six days.” 

__

He grins, tugs at her ponytail for a second, and then he’s out the door for real this time. 

__

She takes a moment to collect herself and then settles in at the window to watch the traffic below. 

__

It’s still not home, but it felt pretty close this weekend, and she knows that’ll carry her through the long week ahead. 

__


	19. Chapter 19

_“What I wanted, always, was you.”_  
_\-- Ernest Hemingway_

Monday… well, Monday doesn’t start with a surprise visit from Jay or with his body pressed warm and steady against hers, but it starts with his sleepy smile on her phone screen, and that’ll have to be good enough. 

They don’t talk much, but it’s nice. It’s what a lazy morning could be like in person, and she’ll take it for now. She sips her coffee, curled under the covers, and his shirtless chest tempts her quietly from too far away. 

She leans forward to adjust her pillows and he squints at her closely for a moment. 

“What? See something you like?” She asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he says, side-eyeing her. “I liked it when I bought it, too.”

She grins, tugging at the collar of the shirt she has on, a basic black v-neck that she’d found hanging on the back of the bathroom door after he left yesterday. It smells like his familiar woodsy soap, and it wasn’t as good as waking up with him, but close counts.

“Housekeeping must have hung it up when they were in after we left,” she says, by way of explanation. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back,” she assures him. “You’ll just have to take it off me, first.” 

He smirks. “I was gonna say you could just keep it, but if me getting it back ends with you naked, I’m gonna need it back, like _right_ now.” 

She laughs. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s just waiting, and she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. 

He shrugs. “Guy’s gotta try.” 

“Of course,” she nods. She glances at the clock. If she takes a cab, she can stay in bed for ten more minutes. It feels worth it. 

“Totally unrelated to anything,” he says, shifting onto his side, “how are the ribs today? Magically healed?”

She rolls her eyes. _Totally unrelated to anything,_ for sure. “Do you even understand how annoyed I’d be if they _were_ magically healed today, and not, say, yesterday?”

“Why, something happen yesterday?” His grin is cocky, and she’s pretty sure she’ll never get enough of it. 

“Something _did not_ happen yesterday, and that’s the problem,” she laughs. 

He just smiles. “Anticipation,” he says, winking. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles. She glances over at the clock and frowns. 

“Time to go?” He asks, and she nods. 

“Yeah, if I don’t want to rush.” 

“Definitely don’t want you to have to rush,” he says, and his tone is suggestive enough she braces herself. “All the best things are nice and slow.” 

She bites her lip. “Nice and slow, huh?” 

He shrugs. “Good things take time.” 

“You’re _real_ serious about the anticipation thing,” she laughs. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” he smirks. “I’d be touching you literally everywhere right this second if I could. Just trying to make the best of the situation.” 

“Well, I’m gonna need some of that patience to rub off on me,” she says, and immediately cringes, closing her eyes, as he laughs. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice is rough and she opens her eyes to his grin. “Anything else you want to rub off on y---” 

“Nope,” she all but yells, interrupting him. “No, no time for that this morning. I have to get ready, I can’t go down that road.” 

He just laughs, and she misses the rush of it against her skin, can’t wait to feel it breathed out against every new area he’s yet to explore. 

“Okay,” he says, and his voice is gentle, quiet. “Go get ready.” 

She wrinkles her nose in displeasure and he grins. 

“I’ll just be here, with only my pictures to keep me company,” he says, a fake-pout firmly in place, and she rolls her eyes, but she’d rather be kissing it away. 

“Have fun with that,” she teases, and he just winks, the flirt. 

“Talk to me later,” she says, standing and stretching. 

“Couldn’t stop me,” he whispers.

She waves and ends the call and sighs. 

It’s gonna be a long, long week. 

——————————

“Last week,” OA greets her as she heads toward her desk a while later. “You gonna miss us?”

“Ehh,” she shrugs. 

“Ouch, Chicago,” he grins. “Hey, Castille wants to see you when you’re settled.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “You get me in trouble?” 

He laughs. “Pretty sure you don’t need my help with that. I dunno. But come find me when you’re done, we’ll head out.”

She nods and tosses her stuff on her desk, heading off toward the SAC’s office. 

She knocks before she turns the corner into the office. “Ma’am? You wanted to see me?”

Isobel smiles, motioning for her to come in. “Detective Upton, yes, thanks. Sit,” she says, gesturing toward a chair. “You’re recovering okay?” 

Hailey nods as she settles into a chair. She’s not recovering quickly enough for her liking, but that doesn’t need to be shared. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” She closes a couple of files on her desk and leans forward. Hailey feels very much like she’s in the principal’s office, or in front of the two-way in an interrogation room. 

“We like you, Hailey. You’ve got instincts the FBI tries to teach, but can’t. You’re quick on the draw and on the uptake, and Agent Zidan has only glowing things to report.” 

“I-- thank you, ma’am.” She’s not really used to effusive praise from superiors. She always knows where she stands with Voight, but it’s rarely accompanied by compliments. 

“Listen,’ she starts, opening a file from a large pile on the end of her desk. “We have a position open here, and I think you’d be a good fit. This isn’t a formal offer, let me be clear. It sadly doesn’t work that way here. But there’s an opening for an Analyst, and if you were to apply, I’d like to think my recommendation would go very far.”

She opens her mouth once, closes it, and then tries again, but Isobel just smiles with a hint of laughter.

“I don’t get the impression you’re speechless much, Detective Upton. Take some time, think about it. You’ve got the week.” 

It’s a dismissal, and she knows it. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. I appreciate this. I just-- I have one question.” 

Off an eyebrow raise, she continues. “An Analyst… similar to Kristen’s role?”

She nods. “Right. It’s not a field role. There may be potential for that in the future, but this role would be in the office.” 

Hailey nods. “Understood. Thank you again, ma’am.” 

She waits for the nod of approval before she leaves the office, clenching and releasing her fists at her sides a few times as she walks back to her desk. 

She’s pretty sure when Isobel told her to take some time, she likely meant more than 30 seconds worth. 

But that’s all she needed to know it isn’t the right fit for her. She’s not supposed to be in the office. She belongs in the field, with a little freedom and the option for improvisation. She knows she needs to cross fewer lines, but sometimes she needs to see the line as dotted, dashed, instead of solid and unwavering like she’s learned the Feds see it. She wants to fly blind sometimes but still have a partner to rely on for backup.

And it’s not about the specific partner waiting for her back home, or a different city. She can adjust, she can make a new _home,_ and she knows, even if it goes against her most ingrained instincts, that if things are supposed to work out with Jay, they will, no matter where either of them ends up. 

It’s an amazing offer, and she appreciates that something she didn’t initially want to do has allowed her to make an impact and grow, but it’s not where she belongs, and she knows it without question. 

It’s never more obvious than when she gets back to her desk to find a text from Jay waiting. The man has great timing. 

Did some research for you. Epsom salts will help your rib pain. Facilitates the healing process and whatnot.  
  


"And whatnot." Very scientific. By “did some research” do you mean you asked Will, or you googled?  
  


Medical advice from my brother? God no, I googled.  
  


Thought so. I’ll pick some up tonight. Pretty vested interest in my pain management, huh.  
  


The whole process is fascinating. Bathing, soaking, etc. Happy to consult face-to-face if needed.  
  


Go to work, Jay.  
  


——————————

“All good?” OA asks when she finds him in the lobby a little while later and they make their way out to the parking garage. Surveillance awaits them, and she’s not thrilled, but she’s happy to be out of the office. 

She nods. “Yeah, no worries,” she says, and the look he gives her tells her he has a pretty good idea about what happened in that office. 

She side-eyes him for a moment and realizes how easily they’ve fallen into a comfortable partnership. Not the _right_ partnership, not the perfect fit, but an easy shorthand that really only comes from facing danger together regularly and having to learn to communicate silently, quickly. 

“You know,” she accuses. 

He shrugs. “I know a lot of things.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You know one very specific thing.”

He smirks and nods. “All I know is Isobel and Jubal approached me for my opinion and I told them you saved my life without hesitation.”

“For the nine hundredth time. I didn't save your life. I just did my job.”

 _“Yeah,_ which saved my life,” he laughs. “I really didn't think a more stubborn person than Maggie existed. You're determined to prove me wrong.”

She shrugs. “Well. Thank you. It's nice to be offered an opportunity.”

“It's deserved,” he says, unlocking the SUV. “So?”

She raises an eyebrow at him as they settle in. 

“An Analyst position, right? Are you considering it?” He asks, a hint of laughter still lacing his words.

She pauses. “She told me to take the time to think about it.” 

It’s his turn to give her a skeptical look, and maybe she’s easier to read than she thinks, or maybe he’s just good at what he does because it feels like he knows the answer, and like it won’t require much explanation. 

An eyebrow raise is the only invite she gets to continue, and she takes a moment to watch the city around them as he pulls out of the garage.

“I’m supposed to be in the field,” is all she says. 

“You’d go crazy behind a desk,” he nods, and it’s not a question. She was right to figure he’d get it. 

She nods, and that’s that. They’re quiet as he navigates traffic toward their surveillance site, but it’s comfortable, and she’s glad for it. 

——————————

When he walks into the district later that morning, it feels different, and it takes him a minute to realize the _place_ feels exactly the same -- it’s _him_ that feels different. He hadn’t gotten comfortable not working with Hailey every day, but he’d forced himself to get used to it, so he could still safely, productively do his job with someone else beside him for the time being. 

And it’s like spending the weekend with her, even in a different city, like kissing her, and not wanting to leave her, has completely reset whatever progress he’d made. 

It’s gonna be a long week, and he’s pretty sure he’ll owe Kim like a week’s worth of a bar tab by the end of it. 

The squad room is still empty when he gets upstairs, and he’s just settling in to check some emails when he remembers the mug for Platt, nestled in the freshly washed backup and gym clothes in his bag that he needs to put in his locker. 

Better now than later, when it’s more likely to involve an audience. 

She’s reading over a file behind the desk when he gets downstairs, and he stands there for a moment, hoping she’ll cut him a break and acknowledge him first. 

No such luck, he finally realizes. He puts his shoulders back and thinks about Hailey’s face, the smirky, _“well, she loves me at least,”_ and calls her name. 

Trudy glances up, and he gives her his best _sorry for bothering you, but is it really a bother if it’s me?_ smile, and apparently that only works on Hailey (and rarely at that, he’s aware.)

“Hey, Sarge. I just wanted to…” He puts the mug on the counter and she sets down her pen, turning the mug by the handle like it could possibly be a bomb. 

“Give me a dish to wash? I’ve seen your team’s sink up there, it works.” 

He laughs or attempts to make the sound leave his mouth, under her gaze. “No, _no,_ of course not. It’s a souvenir, from, you know. My trip. To say thank you.” 

She focuses on the mug for a moment, reading the words before glancing back up at him. “Well, part of the sentence is correct, at least.” 

He nods because it’s exactly how he’d told Hailey the conversation would go. “If it helps, Hailey picked it out.” 

She purses her lips slightly, and he takes it as a good sign. 

“Well. Thank you,” she says, picking up the mug and seemingly weighing it in her hand, and his most basic instincts tell him to duck and cover, but he ignores them. 

‘You’re welcome,” he smiles, tapping the counter and turning to head back upstairs. 

“Halstead.” 

He should have known.

He turns back to her, and she leans across the desk a little, out of earshot of the officers milling around. He appreciates it. 

“Hailey’s doing okay?” 

He grins, and it’s automatic. He tries to turn it down, but there’s no hope. “She’s still in pain, but she’s tough. She’s really good.” 

She just nods. “Good. Let’s make sure she stays that way.” It doesn’t sound like a threat _exactly,_ but he wouldn’t put it past her.

He nods. “That’s the goal.”

He thinks he catches a hint of a smile, but two patrolmen come up to the desk and all she says is, “your _goal_ should be to go do some work, Halstead,” but it doesn’t have any of the usual bite she typically deploys to dismiss him. He just smiles and heads upstairs. 

——————————

“See, I told you she wouldn't throw the mug at you,” Hailey says later that night, her voice laughing over the FaceTime call. 

“I dunno. It wasn't a guarantee. I felt pretty brave,” he jokes. 

“You definitely are,” she smiles. “Just don't think that'll make your top ten list of brave moments.”

“Please tell me you have a list,” he laughs.

She touches her temple. “All up here,” she says. 

“Run through the list when you miss me, huh?” 

She rolls her eyes. _“Sure,_ or when I need a laugh. I see you do something brave, I immediately think, “God, that was stupid, but unfortunately it was also sexy.” 

He just watches her for a moment. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

“About finding the stupid things you do sexy? Unfortunately, I am totally serious.” She wrinkles her nose in mock-disgust and he laughs. 

“Thanks, I think.” 

She just shrugs, and he watches her glance away for a moment before looking back. She shifts in bed and something prickles at the back of his neck in recognition. She’s nervous. 

“You good over there?”

“I am,” she says. “I just. I need to tell you something. I was going to just sit with it for a day, but it seems stupid because I’ve already made up my mind.” 

He nods, sitting up on the couch. “You’re making me nervous, Hailey.” 

“Sorry,” she starts. “Look, I got a job offer from the Feds today.”

Something in his chest clenches, but he breathes through it. “That’s great,” he says, and he tries to sound as proud of her as he feels deep down, but he’s not sure it’s convincing. 

She nods. “I’m not going to take it,” she says.

“Are you sure? That’s a big decision.”

“I’m positive. It’s for an Analyst position, it’s not a field role. I’d be behind a desk all day.” 

“You’d lose your mind,” he says, because he knows it’s true. “But it would be a foot in the door, you could go anywhere from there,” he continues, even though it feels like pulling teeth.

“I know that,” she says, and there’s an edge of exasperation that should make him back down, but never has.

“Hailey,” he whispers. “If it’s not the job for you, it’s not the job for you. Full stop. You’re the only one who knows that. I just… I want to make sure I.. _this…_ wasn’t a factor in your decision.” 

She just watches him for a moment and then chuckles a little. “There’s that Jay Halstead guilt complex I was waiting for,” she says. 

He starts to speak, but she holds up a hand, and the 800 miles between them feel just slightly longer. 

“Jay, this isn’t the right job for me. I know it, you know it, _OA_ knows it, and he’s known me a month. It’s a great opportunity, sure, but it’s not one I was looking for. And am I happy this isn’t a dream job that would force me to weigh the pros and cons of taking it or not? Yeah. But _you,_ and this thing between us?I wouldn’t be worried even if it _was_ my dream job.” 

He just watches her, letting it sink in.

“Things that are supposed to work out do, regardless of the distance or the job, or the city. I don’t think I've always believed that, but I’m positive about it when it comes to this.”

He nods. “Okay.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re just going to accept that? You’re not going to counter and ask if I’m _really sure_ or if I’d be making the same decision so easily if you hadn’t just been out here, or if I don’t want to sleep on it a little?” 

He shakes his head. “Nope.” 

“... Okay.” 

He laughs. “Look, a) You’re the most stubborn person I know, and while I may find that annoyingly sexy, I’m aware it’s a losing battle. I’m not going to talk you into a job you don’t want to take,” he says. “And b), If you'd told me you _did_ want the job, I’d have told you exactly what you just told me. This can work, regardless of where we are.” 

“Well, good,” she says, and he smiles. “Annoyingly sexy, though, huh?”

He chuckles. “That the only thing you picked up on there?” 

“No,” she laughs. “Just going to remember it the next time we go head to head about something, that’s all. I won’t be so quick to back down.” 

“Like you _ever_ are,” he whispers, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, I _definitely_ won’t be now that I’m aware you find it sexy.” 

“I also said annoying,” he clarifies. “But I’d much rather focus on the sexy aspects of your personality.” 

_“Aspects,”_ she says, raising an eyebrow. “As in more than one?”

“Oh, Hailey,” he grins, stretching out to recline on the couch. “If there’s a number that explains how many times I’ve found you sexy, I don’t know it.” 

“Sounds like a pretty big number,” she laughs. _“At least_ three digits.” 

“I understand that’s a jab at my math skills, but I’m not going to acknowledge it. Just know you just made the number even higher.” 

“By making fun of you?” She laughs again, shaking her head, and whatever little mental tally keeps track of every time he wants to kiss her ticks up a few notches. 

“Didn’t say I was proud of it, just said it happened,” he laughs, watching her laugh quiet down until they’re just silent, watching each other, too far apart. 

“Hey,” she whispers. “Remember yesterday, when you were here in bed with me?”

“She asks like it’s something I could have possibly forgotten,” he teases. 

“Mhmm,” she grins.

“That’s it?” He asks, shaking his head. “You can’t just make me think about being in bed with you and then _stop_ talking about it.” 

“Oh? Would you prefer to talk about it?” Her voice is low, teasing, and sultry in a way he’s pretty sure he’s never heard before but knows he’ll never stop thinking about now. 

“I’d _prefer_ to be back in bed with you if we’re talking preferences here, but if that’s not possible--”

A knock sounds at his door and he raises an eyebrow, standing up off the couch. “Please, _god,_ tell me the Feds taught you teleportation and that’s you,” he pleads, and she just shakes her head quietly. 

He peeks through the peephole and sighs. 

“I”m gonna need you to hold that thought, Hailey. Hang on,” he says. He pulls the door open and smiles his best _you’re totally not interrupting anything important but keep it quick_ smile at Mrs. WIlliams, the sweet 85-year-old widow who lives next door. 

“Hi, Jay, honey,” she says. “I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just, my smoke alarm is going off, and I was hoping you could just hop up and fix it for me again? I’d get the stepladder out, but you’re just so tall and strong,” she says, smiling up at him. 

Through the phone, he can hear Hailey’s quiet laughter, the traitor. 

“Yeah, sure, that’s not a problem, Mrs. Williams. Let me just put my shoes on and I’ll be there in a minute,” he says, smiling until she turns to head down the hallway.

He pulls the phone back up to eye level and rolls his eyes at Hailey, who’s still laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she says, recovering. “I knew women flirted with you, but I assumed there was an age limit. But you’re just _so tall and strong,”_ she says, and she’s laughing again. 

“Just for that, I’m definitely never getting off the couch to come to fix _your_ smoke alarm at 9PM,” he jokes, pulling on his boots quickly. 

“That better not be a euphemism,” she says, laughing harder. 

He just winks, laughing as she rolls her eyes. “Later?”

She nods, and he grins, ending the call and heading out the door. 

——————————

Did you defeat the smoke alarm? Need me to call in reinforcements? Casey? Severide?  
  


I know you’re joking, but now I’m curious as to why you need both Matt and Kelly’s numbers.  
  


All in the name of serving and protecting Chicago.  
  


But don’t worry. You’re the only one I want serving and protecting me.  
  


I better be. But yeah, I handled the smoke alarm. She gave me cookies as thanks.  
  


Ooh, lucky.  
  


The cookies were what set off the smoke alarm, so that’s debatable.   
  


Getting ready for bed?  
  


Not quite yet.  
  


[ ](https://i.ibb.co/FgQTvzq/gettyimages-979123328-612x612.jpg)

Decided to take your medical advice.  


  


Jesus. You’re killing me, Hailey.  
  


But clearly, I should have been the doctor in the family. I obviously give excellent advice.  
  


No complaints from me, Dr. Google.  
  


We just FaceTimed for an hour, you didn’t feel like taking this advice anytime during that call? (Smirking Face )  
  


Oh, but anticipation is almost the best part, right? Isn’t that what you said?  
  


Do you actually even like me? You’re trying to kill me.   
  


(Winking Face )

  
  


Enjoy your bath. Dr. Google recommends literally however long it takes for your pain to go away.  
  


——————————

Four more days.  
  


Tuesday starts with an early callout to a scene, and by the time she and OA make it back to the office, it’s nearing lunch. She drops her stuff off at her desk and signals to OA that she’ll be back in a minute. 

She makes her way down the hall to the SAC’s office, knocking on the doorframe. 

“Ma’am, do you have a moment?”

Isobel nods, and Hailey enters the room, not bothering to take a seat. 

“What’s on your mind, Detective Upton?”

“I wanted to take a minute and thank you again for the opportunity. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’m going to have to decline. But I appreciate the time and effort you and ASAC Valentine have put into training me during my time here.”

Isobel nods, and Hailey can see just a hint of surprise cross her features. “If you’re sure, Detective.”

“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t be working to my full potential if I was behind a desk all the time. I belong in the field. At home, with my team.”

“Okay. Well, you have my card if you ever change your mind or need any kind of recommendation.”

She nods. “Thank you,” she says, turning and exiting the office. 

OA and Kristen are talking near her desk when she gets back in the squad room, and Kristen smiles at her. 

“DIdn’t wanna join the team, huh?”

She grins. “You’re an excellent teacher, Kris, but not even you could make me enjoy not being in the field.” 

“Fair enough,” she laughs. “Did OA tell you the good news?”

She shakes her head. “He did _not,”_ she says, glancing up at him. 

“Don’t gang up on me, guys. I _literally_ just found out from Jubal. Maggie’s coming back this week,” he says, and Hailey watches a smile make its way across his face.

“Oh, good. So I guess her undercover assignment went well?”

“I’m not sure, but hopefully. I haven’t heard anything from her. Jubal just got word a little while ago.”

Like they’ve summoned him, Jubal’s voice breaks into their conversation. 

“OA, Upton, we’ve got a couple leads to run down. Kristen will send you the addresses,” he says, and Kristen heads back over to her desk, grinning at Hailey as she leaves. She and OA grab their stuff and head out to the garage, and for the first time since she’s been here, she feels like her time is coming to an end just as she’s really starting to settle in. 

She’s ready to go home, to familiar, to shared stories and history, to _Jay,_ but she’ll miss this place more than she originally thought. 

——————————

She and OA are sitting down to a quick lunch an hour or so later when her phone vibrates with a text from Jay. 

“Sorry,” she says, swiping the phone open. OA just gives her a tiny smirk. 

Is surveillance always this boring, or is it just because you’re not here?  
  


She rolls her eyes and laughs. 

Obviously it’s because I’m not there. But you do get restless really quickly.  
  


“I forgot to ask yesterday,” OA says, taking a sip of his drink. “How was your weekend? It was nice to put a face with the name for Jay.” 

She nods, picking up her fork again. “Yeah, he said the same about you. We had a good time. Kristen had given me a list of must-see places, so we knocked some of those out, had some good food, lots of people-watching.” 

“I hadn’t put two and two together that you were a couple,” he says, and she almost chokes on her salad. 

“I -- _we --_ it’s not… “ She stops talking when he just raises his eyebrows and nods slowly. 

“... Sorry,” he says slowly, and it sounds like he wants to laugh. “I just assumed. He came all this way.” 

“No,” she says quickly. “You’re right. I guess I actually don’t know. It was the first time something _like_ _that_ had happened, and we’re waiting until I get home to really define it… I think.” 

“Okay,” he laughs. “Pretty sure I’m right, though.” 

Her phone vibrates on the table again, and the way her stomach somersaults at the picture attached to the message makes her think OA is absolutely right, and they’re the only ones who haven’t put a name to it. 

[ ](https://i.ibb.co/6HnrNLK/3bcf266583a659e937a1e3c410343107.jpg)

I'm going to owe Kim so many beers when this week is over. She wants to know how you put up with me all the time.

It takes patience. Just tell her to deploy whatever tactics she uses to handle Adam. You’ll be easy by comparison.

Wait, no. Absolutely don't do that. I know for a fact that she just kisses Adam every time he starts to annoy her.  
  


I feel like you should follow Kim’s lead here. Pretty good tactic, really. Probably highly effective.   
  


I’ll remember that the next time I’m on surveillance with Adam. And I’m sure Kim’s not LESS annoyed that you’re ignoring her and talking about her at the same time.  
  


Honestly, rude, Hailey.   
  


(Face Throwing A Kiss )   
  


——————————

One of their leads ends up panning out, so Tuesday runs late, and by the time she’s back to the hotel, she’s just awake enough to soak in the bath for a little while and then crawl into bed. It’s not until she’s trying to get comfortable in bed that she realizes she’s not in as much pain as she has been. 

She’s relaxed and sleepy, and she thinks about calling Jay to tell him his medical advice _is_ sound, to say goodnight, to hear about the rest of his day. But the thought of his rough, sleepy voice sounds the opposite of relaxing, and she knows it'll just wake her up, make her miss him more, make her _need_ him. 

It sounds like good, good torture, exactly like the anticipation he's seemingly such a fan of, but she resists. 

——————————

Wednesday starts early, with a visit to the urgent care close to the FBI building to have the stitches removed from her hairline. 

She looks in the mirror after and smiles. 

She's starting to heal, she can feel it, like the closer it gets to going home, the better her body fares. And finally, she's starting to see the healing in her reflection, in the barely noticeable remnants from the stitched up cut, to the fading bruises now easily hidden by nothing more than her normal light makeup routine. 

Three days, Hailey.   
  


Believe me, I know. Call me later for a coffee break?  
  


It's a date.  
  


——————————

Except later turns out to be while she's in the car with OA on their way to talk to the family of a victim. Her phone rings and she closes the file she'd been going over while OA drives. 

“Hey,” she answers. “Sorry, I'm in the car with OA, so no coffee for me.”

“No worries,” he laughs. “Kim and I are actually headed out in a second, I just needed to say hi.”

“Needed, huh?”

“Well. You know.” She does, maybe more than she'd ever admit. 

“Listen,” he continues. “I was thinking. What time does your flight get in Saturday?”

“Like noon, I think. I'll have to double-check. Why?”

“Okay. Then, I'll see you at noon.” He sounds a little unsure, but somehow cocky, and it's ridiculously attractive. 

“I-- _okay._ At the airport?” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Unless you have a better offer.”

“Can't imagine a better one.” It's dumb, it's not a big deal, but the smile she can hear in his voice and feel on her own face makes it feel like a _huge_ deal. 

“Good then. Kim’s giving me the evil eye, gotta run. Later?”

“Yeah, of course. Be nice to Kim.”

“Just because I _annoy_ her doesn't mean I'm not nice to her,” he laughs. “Don't work too late again.” 

She wants to ask why, if he missed her last night, if he thought about her while he was trying to fall asleep, if the thought of her riled him up instead of calmed him down. But she's aware they both have an audience. It'll have to wait, just like too many other things. 

“I'll call you,” she says, “And thanks, for Saturday.”

“Last or next?” He asks quickly, a whisper, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Both, clearly. _Goodbye,_ Jay _._ “

She's laughing as she hangs up, and she catches OA smirking out of the corner of her eye. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, when it's obvious he's been caught. “I was just so, _so_ right yesterday.”

“What?” She laughs. “He was just offering to pick me up from the airport.”

“He a big plane enthusiast? Does he really enjoy traffic and sitting and waiting?”

She shakes her head. “No, definitely not.”

“Then the only reason to pick _anyone_ up at the airport is if you can't wait another second to see them.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, but he just grins at her, cocky and smug. 

“I think I'm really gonna miss you, Upton,” he laughs. 

_“Obviously,”_ she says. “But don't act like you're not thrilled at the idea of having Maggie back this week.”

He just grins and glances at her out of the corner of his eye, and yeah, maybe she'll miss him a little too. 

But she's so, so ready to go home. 

——————————

“Hey, so don’t be mad,” he says by way of greeting when she picks up the phone later that night as she’s getting off the elevator to leave the office. 

“Ooh, yeah, don’t like that opening,” she laughs. “No promises. What’s up?”

“So you remember how I was annoying Kim yesterday? And last week? And apparently probably before you even left, based on her actual level of annoyance? And what you told me to do?”

“Sounds familiar,” she says. “Good lord, did you tell her the thing I said about Adam, so she kissed you, and now you’re _actually_ going to trade up to her?”

His laugh is loud and warm through the phone. “Come on. You already know there’s no one else I want.” 

She probably looks like a dummy walking through the lobby, a blush creeping up her cheeks and her grin wide. “Yeah,” she says. “A girl likes to be reminded every now and then.” 

“Three days, Hailey, and I’ll remind you _every single day.”_ His voice is low and rough over the line, and she feels her cheeks flush hotter, too dangerous for a public place.

She clears her throat. “What, uh. What was I not supposed to be mad about?”

“Hang on. Check your texts, I just sent you a pic.” 

She pulls the phone from her ear to swipe up and check her messages and immediately rolls her eyes.

[](https://i.ibb.co/rpRQt74/tumblr-efe5faf993827759979b589af2cc3de3-c9554578-1280.jpg)  


  


Don’t be mad.  


  


“Can you seriously not wait until Saturday?” She asks, trying and probably failing to sound annoyed.

“I didn’t choose. We all skipped lunch, so Kim and I decided to stop for food on the way back to the district. I couldn’t annoy her all day and then tell her she couldn’t pick the restaurant,” he laughs. 

“I guess,” she says. “I’m not mad… as long as you’ll still be hungry Saturday.” 

“You know I always wanna eat,” he says, and something about the way his voice is still a little rough, low in her ear, something about the way her cheeks still feel aflame makes her bite her lip a little as she moves into the flow of bodies out on the street. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can help with that on Saturday,” she whispers, her voice pitched slightly lower than normal. 

Something in the way she can hear his voice catch before he speaks sends sparks through her, white-hot and electric, and Saturday feels years away. 

_“Jesus._ _Please_ tell me we’re thinking about the same thing here.” 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out in a few days.” 

“You’re killin’ me, Hailey,” he whispers. 

“You really have no idea,” she says. It’s quiet for a moment, and she can only guess the things running through his mind, based on how hers is in hyperdrive, a million miles away from the crowded street she’s walking down. 

“Are you at the restaurant now? Where’s Kim?”

He laughs, probably at her sudden topic change. “Well. It was just supposed to be us, but she mentioned it to Adam, who told Kev, so now we’re waiting on them to get here. I’m in the truck, she’s inside _having a Jay break and a drink,_ apparently.” 

“That sounds fun.” 

“Dinner with the guys? You must miss them, it’s not that exciting.” 

“No, a _Jay break_ sounds fun,” she says, biting her lip to keep from laughing. 

“Ouch. Way to pull a 180 there, Hailey.” 

“You know I’m teasing,” she says, finally letting herself laugh quietly. 

“You remember how I told you that teasing me was one of those annoyingly sexy things you do?” 

“I might remember that,” she says, stopping at a crosswalk. 

“I’m gonna need a Hailey break if you can’t stop being sexy for like five minutes.” 

“ _Oh?_ Was it something I said?” 

“You mean the thinly veiled oral sex reference that I haven’t stopped thinking about for two seconds since you mentioned it? Yeah, that might have been it.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but honestly, this is fun for me. Just like I’m sure that’ll be.” 

“Hailey, I swear-- “

“I know, I know,” she says. “What if I tell you super unsexy things? Would that work?”

She crosses over toward the hotel as she waits for his answer.

“It’s worth a shot.”

“Okay,” she says, racking her brain for something to tell him. “Oh, alright. I didn’t get to tell you earlier. I officially turned down that job offer.” 

“I’m sorry, wait. You think that’s not sexy?”

She lets out a loud laugh as she enters the lobby, and it echos around the spacious room. “I… yeah?” 

“Hailey,” he sighs. “You went and kicked so much ass that the FBI offered you a job after like three weeks. I don’t know how it gets sexier than that.” 

_“Okay,”_ she laughs. “Hang on, let me think, I’m about to get on the hotel elevator.” 

“You’re actually trying to kill me.” 

“There is literally _nothing_ sexy about an elevator,” she whispers as she steps on. “Except, wait, we _did_ makeout in here a couple times. Yeah, you’re right. I’m bad at this, I’m sorry.” 

“You never need to apologize for being sexy. Just, you know. Try not to kill me when I’m in public and you’re 800 miles away for another three days.”

“Mmm, I’ll try.” She pushes open the hotel room door and sets her stuff down. “Can I tell you just one more thing, though? It’s good news.”

“Shoot.” 

“So I don’t want this to go to your head, but I think the Epsom salt baths are helping.” 

He groans, and she really tries not to laugh. “That _is_ good news. But, as a guy, I just need you to know that you may have said _the baths are helping,_ but what _my brain_ heard was _Hailey’s naked,_ and then I didn’t think about anything else, possibly ever.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” she says, sitting down on the bed. 

“I’m sure,” he laughs. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m gonna go explore, gonna try to find this little Greek restaurant Jubal mentioned the other day, it’s apparently _the best._ We’ll see.”

“So I should be expecting a text complaining about some aspect of the food at some point, I’m assuming, based on prior experience with you and Greek food.” 

She laughs. “Yeah, probably.” 

It’s quiet again and she’s almost happy for the tiny second that isn’t laced with the best kind of tension. 

“Hey,” he says. “Adam and Kevin are walking up. I should go.” 

“Okay. Have fun.”

“You too,” he says, and she waits for the beeps that tell her the call has ended, but they don’t come. “Hey,” he continues, quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I know we’ve been focusing on the day you come home for a really specific reason, but you do know I’m just as excited about all the other days after that, too, for so many other reasons, right?” 

She smiles and lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I know. Me too.” 

“Okay, good. Feel free to yell at me about Greek food at any point. I promise to try to only find it a _little_ sexy.” 

“Deal,” she laughs. “Tell everyone hi.” 

“Will do. Talk later.” 

The call ends and she pulls herself up off the bed to freshen up and change before she heads back out. 

——————————

Can you explain to me how you can claim to be an authentic Greek restaurant and mess up dolmades?   
  


That bad?  
  


It makes no sense. It’s basically a staple Greek food. I could teach YOU to make dolmades and they’d be edible.  
  


If you say so. Can you explain to me how I always get roped into buying the first round at Molly’s?   
  


It’s got something to do with the fact that you keep actually buying them. Just tell them no.  
  


Maybe when you’re here to back me up. I told you, they’re gonna gang up on me.  
  


But Jay, honey, you’re so tall and strong. You don’t need me to protect you.  
  


You know what? The next time I ask you to be less sexy? That’s exactly what I mean. Quote my 85-year-old neighbor at me.  
  


Noted. Go, have fun. I’m gonna go take a bath.  
  


.... And you ruined it.   
  


——————————

She soaks in the bath, her muscles relaxed and her eyes closed, the lights dim, until the water turns uncomfortably cool around her. She’s just changed and settled into bed with some trashy TV when her phone vibrates.

[ ](https://i.ibb.co/d0c2qtQ/IMG-3639.jpg)

I just got home, but these people wanted me to tell you they miss you.  


  


The best looking one misses you most.  
  


Aww, I miss Kim the most too.  
  


Okay, fair. The best looking GUY misses you the most.  
  


I miss Kevin, too.  
  


You know, I’m just going to say thank you for not saying Adam and leave it at that.  
  


She grins. It’s really just too easy sometimes. 

Her phone lights up in her hand, and she bites her lip as the message pops up.

[ ](https://i.ibb.co/NVpYxFf/IMG-3602.jpg)

This guy. Just in case you’d forgotten.  


  


It’s rude, honestly, and she’s a little annoyed at how her heart races just slightly faster.

Never one to be outdone, she pulls her hair out of its ponytail and snaps a picture, and it’s not as good as when they were in this bed snapping pictures of their own, but it’ll do for now.

[ ](https://i.ibb.co/Cb1yVfq/IMG-3623.jpg)

I might miss all of them a little. But I miss you the most.  


  


——————————

He’d like to say he has more restraint, but he’s sending her a FaceTime request as soon as the picture pops up on his phone. 

She’s smiling as she answers, and it should be embarrassing how he just silently watches her for a moment, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“Anyone ever told you you’re gorgeous?”

He watches her cheeks flush scarlet as she glances away and then quickly back to him. 

“Just this guy from back home,” she whispers, and he grins. 

“Well, you know what they say about those hometown guys,” he says. 

She eyes him carefully. “I think you tried to convince me once that they’re dangerous.” 

“Still not buying that one?” 

She shakes her head, grinning. 

“Fine,” he concedes. “The thing about hometown guys? Home doesn’t feel quite like _home_ to them while they’re waiting for their girl to come back.” 

“Their girl, huh?” She whispers, and _god,_ he wants to kiss her and never stop. 

“Yeah, you know,” he backpedals, running his hand over the back of his neck because maybe that was too much for FaceTime and 800 miles of distance. “The girl they want to come home.” 

“Their girl,” she says again, nodding slowly. “You got a girl like that?” 

“I mean,” he grins, “If Platt would ever take a vacation long enough for me to miss her, I might.” 

Her laugh is sudden and bright, and so, so worth the stupid joke. 

He waits for her to focus back on him. “Yeah, Hailey,” he whispers. “Pretty sure I’ve got a girl like that.” 

“Yeah, I am too,” she says. 

“Stitches are gone,” he notes, and she nods, pushing her hair back from her face.

“This morning. It’s nice to not feel Frankenstein-y anymore.” 

“Oh yeah,” he teases. “You were looking _real_ scary.”

“The truth comes out,” she laughs. “Did you have a good time with everyone? Bartoli's still as good as when I left?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Would have been better with you, of course. Definitely wasn’t the Bartoli's date I was expecting.” 

“Our Bartoli's date definitely won’t include anyone else,” she says.

“You know,” she continues a moment later like the thought just occurred to her. “You just ate at Bartoli's and now you’re home, on your couch, alone. If you’d just waited until I was home on Saturday, you probably wouldn’t be alone on the couch.” 

“Probably?” His voice sounds rough to his own ears, and he swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to presume.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Presume away.”

”It’s a shame, you know, your timing being off today. If you’d texted me twenty minutes earlier, I would have been right in the middle of my bath.”

“Hailey,” he warns, but she just smiles. 

She’s gonna be the death of him, and this might just be how he goes out. 

“We spent a lot of time today talking about how you find me sexy,” she says, “but we didn’t ever talk about how sexy _I_ find _you.”_

“Well, that’s gotta be a shorter conversation,” he says, but it feels like he’s just choking the words out. Something in her tone tells him she’s amping up to play a dangerous game, and the way she hasn’t taken her eyes off him tells him she’s gauging his reaction carefully. 

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

_“Hailey--”_

“See?” She interrupts, “Like right now, when you’re trying to warn me, trying to play this off, like I can’t tell just by looking at you, like I couldn't hear it in your voice earlier in the truck. You’re just as desperate for me to come home as I am to get there.” 

He nods, but it’s shaky. 

“I know what you want, Jay. I want it, too. And when you were here, in bed with me, I know you were holding back because I was in pain. You being willing to do that, but still letting me know without a doubt how much you wanted me? That might be the sexiest I’ve ever found you.” 

_“This_ might be the sexiest I’ve ever found you,” he says, but even as he says it he knows there’s no way he could ever rank the never-ending list. 

“And just think, I’ve still got all my clothes on. How are you gonna survive?”

“There’s a good chance I won’t. You should probably just take full advantage of me now, honestly.” 

She nods. “That’s true," she says, biting her lip. "Take your shirt off, Jay.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what’s happening now?”

“You’re gonna take it off to go to sleep soon, may as well let me enjoy the view now.” 

He gestures to his face, smirking. “This isn’t a good enough view?”

“You know exactly how good a view it is. But I can see it anytime I want. I can’t just glance up from my desk at work and tell you to get naked.”

“Hailey, you can tell me to get naked any time,” he grins. 

She just raises an eyebrow and flicks her wrist in a _go on_ gesture, and he laughs. “I get it, I get it,” he says, shrugging out of his jacket and reaching back to pull his shirt off, juggling the phone as he does. 

She lets out what sounds like a happy little sigh, and he can’t help but smile. 

“There we go,” she smirks. _“That’s_ the moneymaker.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t expect that to work every time. I can’t be shirtless everywhere.” 

“Don’t be a buzzkill, we’re having fun here.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His grin turns into a smirk as the words hit her and her cheeks flush.

“You like that?”

She shrugs. “I guess so. News to me, so thanks for that.” 

“I aim to please, Hailey.” 

“And I’m guessing, just based on the way too limited exposure I’ve had, that you rarely miss.” 

“I’m going to ignore the _rarely_ part and just tell you that practice makes perfect, and as soon as you’re close enough to touch, I plan on perfecting _whatever_ you let me practice, as often as you’ll let me.”

Her teeth bite into her bottom lip, and that alone is gonna be enough to do him in at some point in the future, he’s sure of it.

She runs her fingers down the base of her neck to her collarbone, and desire pools low and deep in his body. “As long as you start here,” she says, her fingers skating back over her collarbone to her neck slowly, “I’ll let you practice whatever you want.” 

He thinks about the little gasps of pleasure she'd let out against his skin over the weekend, the way she'd shifted so he could press his lips to more of her skin. 

“I'll start and stop wherever you want,” he whispers. 

Her fingers trail a path down over her collarbone again, just shifting the collar of her shirt enough that the pale skin at the curve of her breasts comes into view, and he takes a deep breath in. 

“Who said I ever want you to stop?”

“Oh, I don't plan on ever stopping once I can fully touch you. I just thought I'd remind you of my restraint, since _apparently_ you find it sexy.”

He watches her shift back against the mattress, her hair fanning out behind her, and he tries to focus on the present, on this gorgeous woman who's tempting him from hundreds of miles away, who doesn't want him to stop. But all he can think about is her, spread out just like that in his bed, when she'll be close enough to touch and taste, to hear and feel the sharp sighs of pleasure he'll gladly spend hours learning to coax out of her. 

“Everything about you is sexy,” she whispers. He recognizes the low, sultry tone now, and he wants to hear it breathed out between them in whatever space might still exist between their bodies when she's close enough to kiss. 

Her hand moves and his view shifts, and he's pretty sure he groans, but her laugh overtakes the room. 

“Your insistence on not wearing pants in private is going to ruin me,” he says, running a hand over his hair. 

“If anything, it'll save you time, which should help you in the long run,” she says. “So much less to take off.” Her fingers edge under the lace waistband just a fraction, her rucked up shirt shows just the jagged endings of mottled bruising, and he can't figure out what to focus on. 

At the top of the frame he can see her bottom lip is between her teeth, and that's what tells him it's not performative, it's not for show, she's really into it. 

It's what confirms she's absolutely gonna wreck him. Being in bed with her again is gonna be his point of no return, she's already the one he'll never be able to get enough of. 

She's gonna absolutely wreck him, but if he's gotta go out that way, if she's gonna be _it_ for him, he wants every first to be in person, close enough to touch and taste again and again. 

“Hailey,” he whispers. He can't see if her eyes are closed, and he tries again when she doesn't respond. “Baby, look at me.”

The endearment surprises him, just falls from his lips, and it must surprise her too because it's what shifts his view back to her face. 

“Hi,” she whispers, like that of all things has finally overwhelmed her, made her so uncharacteristically shy. 

“Hi,” he echos, lifting his lip in a small, hesitant smile. “I hope you're able to contain yourself in a moment because this will be the sexiest you've ever found me. I guarantee it's the most restraint I’ll ever be able to show.”

He watches her fingers skim back up her stomach. She knows. 

“I could watch you for hours, and I could show you _exactly_ what you're doing to me, and I know it'd be good.”

She nods. 

“But the first time I watch you fall apart, I want it to be around my fingers, or against my mouth. I don't want to just _watch and hear,_ I want to touch, and taste, and feel.”

He watches her breathe out a shuddery breath, and yeah, he gets it. 

“Fine,” she says, and the teasing tone in her voice makes him smile and breathe a sigh of relief. “I _guess_ that was pretty sexy.”

“Good,” he laughs. “Because it nearly killed me. I don’t think words even exist for how much I want you.”

She nods and chews at her bottom lip for a moment. “I guess you’ll just have to show me on Saturday.”

“I’ll show you whatever you want for as long as you’ll let me,” he assures her.

“Does _forever_ sound like enough time?”

He grins. “Yeah, that might just do it.” 

——————————

Thursday starts early like always, but the anticipation, the quiet desire that pools low in her belly as soon as she’s awake and how the first thought that crosses her mind is of Jay… well, that’s not new either, but it feels heightened, and it makes her grin before she’s even had coffee, so she’ll take it. 

Two days, for real this time.  
  


OA greets her as she makes her way into the squad room that morning, and something about the look on his face makes her own smile kick up a notch. 

“Morning, Chicago. Got a sec? Want you to meet someone.” 

She nods, and they walk by her desk so she can drop off her stuff. 

_“Someone,_ huh?” She asks as they walk down the hallway. 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, reaching out to pull open a door for her.

Isobel is sitting at a long conference table with a couple of other people in suits she vaguely recognizes from her weeks around the office, and a woman she doesn’t, but she stands as OA comes into the room. 

“Hailey Upton, this is Maggie Bell. Maggie, Hailey. She’s been with us from Chicago while you’ve been under.” 

Maggie smiles and extends a hand to shake. 

“I’ve heard good things,” she says. “Thanks for looking out for my partner here. It’s such a pain to break a new one in,” she grins, and okay, Hailey likes her.

“You’re gonna have to eventually stop telling people I saved your life,” Hailey laughs, glancing up at OA. “It’s good to get to put a face with the name,” she tells Maggie.

“Likewise. Have you been enjoying the city?”

She nods. “Yeah, absolutely. It’s different, but it’s been a great experience. I’ll be happy to be home soon, though.” 

“I know that feeling,” Maggie says, and Hailey watches the look she sends OA, the tiny quirk of his lips. 

It makes her miss Jay and working with him every day, the quick, silent communication they’ve mastered over the years. 

“Are you here much longer?” Maggie asks. “Will we get to work together?” 

She shakes her head. “My contract is up tomorrow, so I’ll be headed home this weekend. And I’m pretty sure OA will be happy to have his partner back.” 

The look OA shoots her makes her want to laugh, but she stops herself. If he wanted to, he could turn it right back around on her, so she lets it be. 

“Detective Upton,” Isobel says, standing. “Can we-- “ she gestures outside, and Hailey nods. 

“Welcome back,” she tells Maggie. She raises an eyebrow at OA, their own silent exchange of understanding, and follows Isobel out into the hallway. 

“Ma’am?” 

“Hailey,” she says, “About your contract.” 

Her heart sinks a little. She wasn’t lying before -- she’s ready to go home. 

“There was a clerical error,” she continues. “Your contract was supposed to end tomorrow, but it’s actually dated for today.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure--” 

“As of the end of business today, your loan out to the Bureau is over. Normally, I’d say just come in tomorrow, finish out any open cases, but we’re pulling Agent Zidan out of the field for the remainder of the week so he can debrief with Agent Bell and the team she was undercover with.” 

“Am I passing on the open case to a different agent?” 

Isobel nods. “Kristen is all set up to help you with the logistics of that. You’ll work with her today. She’s also got your flight itinerary for Saturday ready to print. Sorry to inform you that the Bureau did not spring for First Class or even Business.” 

“I’ll survive,” she laughs. “So, tomorrow… ?”

Isobel smiles. “You probably haven’t had time to really explore the city. Take the day. There must be something you’ve been looking forward to doing.” 

She nods. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” 

She makes her way back to her desk to gather the open case files. Like she could have bet on it, there’s a message from Jay waiting when she checks her phone. 

Is it too early to start an hourly countdown? Because that’s where I’m at this morning.  
  


Glad we’re on the same page.  
  


We’re always on the same page, Hailey. Just gotta get back in the same city.  
  


She scrolls back up through their messages to look at the pictures he’d sent her yesterday, his smiling face front and center in each one. 

_As of the end of business today, your loan out to the Bureau is over._

_Take the day. There must be something you’ve been looking forward to doing._

Yeah, she’s pretty sure there is.

She gathers the files and heads over to Kristen’s desk, bumping her on the shoulder as she reaches her.

“Morning, girl,” she says, glancing up from her computer. “I was thinking, dinner and drinks tonight, one last time? I know tomorrow’s your last night in the city, but it’s my cousin’s birthday,” she says.

“Sounds good to me,” Hailey says. And it does. A night of fun conversation and maybe a drink or two too many sounds like the best way to close out her time with the FBI. She’s going to miss Kristen and OA, and this overly techy office. 

But there’s someplace, someone, she misses more. 

“Ready to start handing those files over?” Kristen asks, reaching up for the stack she’s holding.

“Yeah,” she says. 

“But first, I’m gonna need your help with something.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, friends! I'll be sentimental and sweet in the notes at the end of that one, but for now, just know I'm so, so thankful for all the love and feedback that has come my way. I'm so excited for you all to read the ending. 
> 
> Special thanks to @randers198 for being the queen of Upstead pics and sharing her Bartoli's pic with me, which convinced me to make the fussy HTML/CSS work. All other pictures are from Google and are not my property.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, friends! First, I'm so, so sorry this has taken so long. I forgot how busy the holiday season is personally and work-wise, but rest assured, I have thought of very little else beyond these dummies.
> 
> On a (hopefully!) happier note, this is not the last chapter. The original chapter 20 started getting away from me, so it's going to be posted in two parts. It is nearly finished, but Jay and Hailey seem to have minds of their own, so there may be a little delay for part two/chapter 21.

_“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home, and if we’re really lucky,_  
_we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’s what life is-- coming home.”_  
_\-- Anita Krizzan_

One more day, Hailey.  
  


I thought you were down to counting down the hours.  
  


... Fine. 28ish hours. Didn’t wanna seem desperate.  
  


As opposed to when you’ve totally played it cool every other time?  
  


Ouch. It’s too early for you to be mean to me if you’re not here to make it up to me.  
  


You can tell me how I can make it up to you later. Gonna be MIA for awhile today, turns out leaving the FBI is a longer process than I thought.  
  


Read the fine print, Hailey. Don’t let them trap you.   
  


Yeah, yeah. You just keep counting the hours.  
  


——————————

__

He does keep counting. He’d never admit this to her, but by the time he’s reached 24 hours a few hours into his workday on Friday, he’s basically counting the minutes. He’s texted her a couple dumb memes throughout the morning, just to make her smile anytime she can glance at her phone, but he’s not heard back from her, and time is just dragging on. 

__

He’s down to 22 hours, 45ish minutes, and driving back to the district solo from a scene when her name lights up his screen. He tries to play it cool, but he can hear the smile in his voice as he greets her. Hers is quiet, maybe a little tired, but the smile is there too. He can’t see her face, but he’d bet money on it. 

__

“FBI’s gonna let you go?” He asks, and her quiet laughter comes over the line.

__

“Yeah, I think we’ve successfully parted ways. Ran into a couple delays, but all’s good now.” 

__

“Good,” he says. It’s quiet for a moment as he turns into the district parking lot and pulls into his usual spot. 

__

“I know you’re working. I just wanted to tell you something exciting real quick.” 

__

“Okay,” he laughs, unbuckling his seatbelt, cutting the engine, and bringing the phone to his ear. 

__

“Today was the first day I woke up and had _no_ rib pain,” she says. There’s a hint of a flirty edge to her voice, and she’s _absolutely_ gonna wreck him.

__

He groans quietly, and her laugh is quick, questioning. 

__

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “That’s great. It’s just… now I’m gonna have to think about what that means _all day,_ and the day will feel even longer than it already has.” 

__

“Oh? And what does that mean specifically?” She _knows_ she’s gonna wreck him, and he’s pretty sure she’s into the power she holds over him. 

__

“Hailey,” he groans. _“Please.”_

__

They’ve been here before. If he sits in this truck and lets her voice wash over him, lets his mind go to the places it so easily could and _always_ does with her, he’s gonna regret it. 

__

He’s out of the truck and locking the door by the time she responds. 

__

“I like a man who begs,” she laughs, and there’s that flirty edge again, but he’s pretty sure she’s not joking.

__

“You’re killing me,” he whispers, working his way through the parking lot. She must hear the rough edge to his voice, because her next words are quiet and sweet, and they do absolutely nothing to lessen how much he wants her.

__

“Mmm,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, as he opens the door and walks through the lobby and toward the stairs. 

__

Platt’s voice stops him, a sharp _“Halstead,”_ as he’s about to set foot on the stairs, and he sighs quietly. It’s probably a good thing, the quick distraction from Hailey’s quiet, flirty tone, but it doesn’t mean it’s welcome. 

__

He turns toward her desk but pauses for a moment. 

__

“Hey,” he says, “Hang on for a sec, I’m about to be roped into something, I’m pretty sure.” 

__

Her laugh is quiet. “Okay. Good luck with that,” she says. 

__

“Thanks,” he laughs. “One sec.” She mumbles a quiet noise as he pulls the phone from his ear, making his way over to Platt.

__

“A little busy on your phone there?” She asks, leaning over the counter toward him. 

__

“Sorry, Sarge. It’s Hailey.” 

__

A quick hint of… maybe a smile passes across her face, but it’s gone before he can tell for sure. 

__

“There’s someone waiting upstairs,” she says, nodding up toward the bullpen.

__

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Who is it?” As a rule, Platt doesn’t let many people up, but people do wait in Voight’s office from time to time if they’re bigwigs or if Platt finds them annoying enough to need them out of her space. 

__

She shrugs. “I don’t know, Halstead. Do I _look_ like the Intelligence Department’s social secretary?”

__

He shakes his head. “No, definitely not. I’ll just head up there and find out.” 

__

“Yeah, you do that,” she says, and it’s enough of a dismissal that he turns on his heel and heads upstairs, buzzing in and pausing to bring the phone back up to his ear before continuing upstairs.

__

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m gonna need you to come back so Platt will be nicer to me.” 

__

She laughs low and easy over the line. “What’d she want?” 

__

Her voice sounds tinny but louder, closer, and he glances up as his feet fall on the last step. 

__

There’s someone waiting, for sure. 

__

Her boots are on his desk, her jeans and what he can already spot as _his_ black tee completing her relaxed look as she leans back in his desk chair, smirking at him as he lowers the phone from his ear. 

__

He clears his throat quickly. “She, uh. Just wanted to let me know someone was waiting.” 

__

“Yeah,” she grins, putting her feet back on the floor and standing up from his desk as he crosses the room slowly toward her. “You could say I’ve been waiting. And I’m glad to see it doesn’t look like Platt roped you into anything.” 

__

He shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, trying to catch up. _“Hi.”_

__

“Hi,” she laughs, her blue eyes bright. “Just so you’re aware, _I_ don’t have any rope with me but if that’s something you’re into, we can have a discussion,” she teases. 

__

_God,_ he’s missed her. 

__

“Okay,” he grins, just pausing to take her in for a moment. He's seen her face on his phone screen every day since Sunday, and it just cannot do her justice. “22 hours,” he says, finally. 

__

She nods slowly, her lips twisting into a smirk. 

__

He rolls his eyes. “I was supposed to pick you up tomorrow.”

__

She nods again, and okay, yeah, he definitely needs to catch up a little. 

__

“I changed my flight. The Feds didn't need me today since Agent Bell is back, and all my paperwork was done, so,” she trails off, shrugging. 

__

_“So,_ sounds like you lied to your partner.”

__

“Kinda figured he might not mind too much in this particular instance,” she says, shrugging again. 

__

He just shakes his head. “You didn't want to spend your last day sightseeing?”

__

“I saw them all.”

__

He raises an eyebrow. “You saw _all_ the sights in New York City.”

__

“All the ones I wanted to,” she nods. “There were things back home I wanted to see more.” He’s close enough now that he could touch her, but he knows if he does there’s no way he’ll be able to stop. 

__

His stomach twists in his gut and he has to fight to keep the smile on his face at bay. “The Bean, Navy Pier, Sears Tower,” he provides helpfully, a distraction from what he really wants to do, and she laughs, rolling her eyes. 

__

“Yeah, I'm gonna go do all those things now,” she teases, moving to walk past him, her shoulder brushing his arm. It’s only as she does that he notices the backpack over her shoulder. 

__

“DId you come straight from the airport? Where’s your luggage?” 

__

“Yeah,” she says, and he watches her cheeks flush a little like she might be a little embarrassed. “My luggage is hopefully somewhere in the air between here and New York.”

__

Off his look, she rolls her eyes. “It’s a long story, but apparently last-minute flight changes and delays are bad karma for luggage.” 

__

“Most important thing made it home safe, anyway,” he says, taking a small step toward her, the toes of his boots meeting hers. He lets himself reach out and tug at the fabric of his shirt on her body. “Looks better on you,” he whispers. 

__

She grins. “That’s definitely debatable,” she laughs, watching his fingers twist into the fabric slightly. 

__

He shakes his head and he’s just about to break his rule for her, about to lean in and kiss her, maybe never stop right in the middle of the bullpen. But the gate buzzer sounds behind them, and she takes a quick step back, grin fading a little. 

__

Footsteps fall on the stairs and Adam, Kevin, and Kim’s voices fill the room.

__

——————————

__

“Well, well, well, Hailey Upton,” Adam says, and Hailey’s natural inclination is to roll her eyes, but she's actually missed him, and Kim and Kevin behind him, so when he reaches her and moves to pull her into a hug, she doesn't resist, even though it’s not the first _welcome home_ hug she was anticipating. 

__

Kevin’s next, his solid, quiet greeting a marked contrast to Adam’s, and Kim's right behind him, a characteristic tight hug that makes Hailey's ribs twinge in the slightest way, but she pushes it down in favor of hugging her back. 

__

“Seriously, don't ever leave me alone with these guys again,” she says, a plea in her voice and Hailey laughs. 

__

“Don’t worry, I have no plans of leaving any time soon,” she says, and she can’t stop her gaze from falling on Jay. 

__

“Did you hug the lady yet, Jay?” _Of course_ it’s Adam who asks. 

__

She expects Jay to say yeah, he has, even though he hasn’t, but he just lifts the corner of his mouth in a smirk that sends her silently reeling. “I was about to,” he says, glancing at her. The way he’s looking at her tells her he was probably _about_ to do a lot of things if they hadn’t been interrupted. 

__

The way her stomach flips at just the sound of his voice tells her it’s probably a good thing they were interrupted.

__

Kevin’s voice shakes her out of it. “Come on bro, _you_ missed her most of all.” 

__

“You know what they say about partners who get left behind,” Jay says, stepping closer, reaching out to pull her against his chest with a hand on her upper back. It’s friendly, it’s comforting, his warm chest against her, his heartbeat against her ear for a long moment as she wraps her arms around him. 

__

It’s the _welcome home_ hug she was waiting for, but _It’s not enough;_ it’s not what she's needed for a week and longer, before she knew what he felt like against her. But it's _good._

__

“Yeah, they’re _insufferable,”_ Kim grumbles, and Hailey laughs into Jay’s shoulder, her lips against the fabric of his shirt. His hand starts to slide lower down her back, and _god,_ she’d probably let him, in front of everyone, but the buzzer sounds and footsteps thunder up the stairs, Voight’s voice filling the bullpen. She pulls back reluctantly, watching Jay’s hands fall back to his sides.

__

“Upton,” Voight says. It’s the first time she’s heard his voice in weeks, and she expects to feel a little twinge of anger, of _guilt,_ maybe, after the last conversation they’d had in his office, but she can’t bring herself to feel the emotions. It started how it started, but it ended well, and it brought her home _happy_ and _excited,_ and she told herself on the plane ride home that she was leaving any lingering negative garbage somewhere in the 800 miles between New York City and _home._

__

“Sarge,” she says, smiling. She doesn't expect him to hug her, but she accepts the handshake he offers happily. 

__

“Back early?”

__

She nods. “Couldn't stay away, I guess.”

__

He nods once. “Good,” and she's pretty sure that's the end of her welcome home. 

__

(She can still feel the heat of Jay's chest against her, and she corrects herself -- she's pretty sure it's the end of her _public_ welcome home.) 

__

“You staying?” Jay asks quietly as Voight heads to his office and Kim, Adam, and Kevin settle in at their desks. 

__

She nods. “No other plans. I was gonna distract myself spending some time unpacking, but the airline kinda ruined that.”

__

“Can I distract you?” He whispers, putting his hand on her hip casually to slide around her to his desk. 

__

She raises an eyebrow at him, because she's pretty sure he knows _he’s_ what she needs distracting from. 

__

“With _paperwork,”_ he grins, holding out a file to her. _“Don’t be a perv,”_ he mouths, and she has to bite her lip to keep from bursting out laughing. 

__

She rolls her eyes affectionately, but takes the file, letting her fingers press against his for longer than necessary. 

__

She settles in at her desk, watching him pull his chair back to its right location across from her. He glances up as he gets settled, smiling, and she leans up on her tiptoes to reach across and steal a pen, smirking at him as his eyes follow her back down. 

__

_God,_ she’s missed home. 

__

——————————

__

They all work quietly for a little while, and it's good being back. The random chit chat is easy, Adam’s incessant pen tapping is annoyingly familiar, the coffee Jay places on her desk a little while into the long file she's working on is exactly how she likes it, and his accompanying smile is even better. 

__

When she glances up now, she doesn't see a long string of monitors or the unfamiliar faces that have greeted her at work the last month. She sees _Jay,_ and she can’t stop glancing up to just _watch_ him. She’s watched him work for years, but it feels new somehow now, like the fact that she knows what his fingers feel like on her body makes her appreciate the way they move over the keyboard. She watches him work quietly, his head bent going over pages of evidence, the strong line of his shoulders curved. 

__

She’s pretty impressed with his focus, honestly. She can’t seem to keep her mind on anything but him, and it’s certainly not anything work-related. 

__

She finally closes the file she's working on after reading the same sentence five times and picks up her phone. 

How's work?  
  


She watches him pick up his phone and glance up at her, smirking slightly.

Better today, but seems to be dragging on and on.  
  


Oh? I get that feeling. I wonder why.   
  


He glances up at her, smirk still firmly in place, and she lifts her shoulder in a quick shrug.

It’s a mystery.  
  


You’re a pretty decent detective. Maybe you’ll figure it out later.  
  


She hears him chuckle quietly, and she bites her lip.

Only pretty decent?  
  


Maybe I’ve forgotten just how good. It’s been awhile since I’ve been home, you know.  
  


Oh? Guess I hadn’t noticed.  
  


Apparently not. You got any plans later?  
  


I was going to do laundry, maybe meet Will for a drink. But I might be able to be talked into something else.  
  


When she glances up, he’s watching her, nothing hidden at all about what’s on his mind.

Could you be talked into a break right now?  
  


She watches him read the message, the set of his shoulders squaring as he looks up at her and gestures casually toward the back stairwell. She nods and stands, stretching her arms up above her head to work out the kinks of sitting for entirely too long today. 

__

His eyes track her movements and she wants to laugh. Anyone watching him would notice where his eyes are drifting, and it's certainly not lost on her, pinpricks of heat lingering where his eyes wander. She smirks at him quickly and pockets her phone, heading off down the hallway. 

__

She waits at the bottom of the stairwell, her back against the wall until she hears the telltale creak of the door a couple of minutes later. His boots on the stairs make a sound that she didn't realize was so familiar, and when she glances up, he's walking slowly down the stairs toward her. 

__

He leans back against the opposite wall when he reaches her, and she almost can't blame him. She's pretty sure if she starts touching him, she won't be able to stop. And sure, it's what made her pick up her phone to lure him down here, but this close to his body, watching a smirk settle across his lips, it feels dangerous. 

__

“Hi,” he whispers. 

__

She raises an eyebrow and waves, and his laugh echoes through the stairwell. It reminds her that voices carry here, and she steps closer so she won't have to speak above a whisper. 

__

“So, laundry, huh? That was your big, exciting Friday night?” 

__

He rolls his eyes, but nods. “Or a drink with Will, but honestly, laundry sounded better. Might have found some time to call you.”

__

_“Might?”_

__

He shrugs. “Maybe,” he winks, reaching out a hand to tug at the fabric of her shirt. “But, you know, now that _my_ shirt's back, I’d kinda like to add it to my laundry pile.”

__

She bites her lip to keep from laughing at the corny segue. “Pretty bold to assume I'm gonna give it back.”

__

“I think I can be pretty convincing,” he says.

__

His fingers press against the fabric at her hip and she leans into him.

__

“You know,” she says, “I like to think I can be pretty convincing too.”

__

“Oh?”

__

She nods. “Mhmm. I was gonna bring your shirt back this morning, actually,” she says, reaching out to toy with the buttons at the neck of his olive button-down. “My flight was supposed to leave just early enough that I'd be knocking on your door right around the time your alarm went off.”

__

“Sounds like a fun way to wake up,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over her hip. 

__

“Didn't think you'd complain much, I know you can be convinced to be a morning person,” she says, flashes of him warm and strong and showing entirely too much restraint in her hotel bed flooding her memory. “I had a plan to convince you that playing hooky for the day was a _great_ idea.” 

__

Her fingers tangle in the collar of his shirt and he lifts his lips in a small smile as she leans further into him. “You always have excellent alternate plans, if I remember well enough.”

__

She nods. “Wanna hear the plan?”

__

He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair back behind her ear. _“Honestly?_ I'd rather you show me.”

__

She laughs, the noise almost too loud in the stairwell. “Yeah, I was hoping you'd say that.” She smooths his collar and runs her fingers up to the back of his neck, nails dragging lightly. 

__

His smile is the last thing she sees as she lets her eyes close and her lips find his, and she's been home for hours, but it's _real_ now as his mouth opens under hers. 

__

His fingers edge under the fabric of her shirt at her hips and she grins against his mouth, pressing her body against him. 

__

“Someone’s pretty eager,” she teases, her lips brushing over his. 

__

“Can you blame me?” His voice is low, rough against her lips, and no, she absolutely can’t. His fingers feel like tiny brands, heat pricking her skin at each pinpoint, and she laughs quietly as his blunt nails skate up her sides. 

__

“Ticklish?” He whispers, nipping at her bottom lip gently. 

__

“I feel like you'd take advantage if I was,” she laughs, shaking her head. “No. It's just… a lot. It’s good.”

__

He smiles against her lips, swallowing her quick, happy sigh, and she drags her fingers up into his hair, biting at his bottom lip. 

__

The tiny groan he lets out feels like reward enough for the early morning and delayed flight and lost luggage, and she smiles against his lips slowly. 

__

_“Good?”_ She whispers. 

__

“Shh,” he murmurs, laughter in his voice as his free hand comes up to cup her jaw. She wants to laugh, but he kisses her again. It’s more insistent this time, and she feels every second of the weeks they were apart, every ounce of _want_ she's felt, pooling low in her body as his hand pulls her closer. 

__

She lets herself get lost in it, lets herself lose her focus like she wouldn't normally at work, and it's _good,_ like it was on the High Line and her hotel room, on the Brooklyn Bridge and in the elevator, like she's pretty positive it'll always be. 

__

His fingers slide up her waist again, higher, and she thinks about letting them wander, about letting hers work the buttons of his shirt open right in this stairwell. About how good it would be to finally just let go, finally pain-free, finally against him. 

__

But the door creaks open upstairs and his fingers slide back down her waist and out from under her shirt too quickly, and it's almost like she can feel the disappointment, the tug of anticipation in the last touches of his fingertips. 

__

_“Jesus,”_ she groans quietly, and he pulls away as footsteps fall on the stairs. 

__

Kim’s voice calls out, her head popping around the corner. “There you are,” she says, eyeing them closely. “Jay, we got a lead, Voight wants us to run it down.”

__

He nods, running a hand over the back of his neck. She wonders if he can still feel the spark of her fingers on his skin like she can. “Yeah, okay,” he says.

__

“Hailey, you okay? You look a little flushed.”

__

She nods, biting her lip, hoping it helps cover the way she can feel her lips already feel kiss-swollen. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Traveling, y’know,” she says, moving to head up the stairs as Kim turns on her heel. 

__

Kim nods. “Too tired for a Molly’s stop after work? The guys and I want to hear all about the FBI, _we_ didn’t talk to you ninety times a day,” she says, and Hailey hears the teasing jab at Jay in the words. 

__

She can feel Jay’s fingers brush against her lower back from the step behind her, and she reaches back to brush her fingers against his. Truth is, she _is_ actually tired, and the idea of _anything_ delaying getting Jay totally alone is kind of torturous. But she’s missed Kim, Adam, and Kevin, and the familiar bar. 

__

And she knows, without question, without discussion, that getting Jay alone won’t be a one-time thing. It’s been weeks, months, of buildup. Just being in the same room with him today, not separated by hundreds of miles or by a tinny, pixelated connection, has been _so_ good, and she knows they can handle another hour or so in public. 

__

She thinks about all the texts and FaceTime calls they’d shared, him at Molly’s, her in an entirely different city, and she’s pretty sure it’ll be fun being there together again. 

__

“Yeah, I think I can hang out for a little while,” she tells Kim, smiling as Jay’s fingers tangle with hers quickly before letting go as they breach the top step. 

__

——————————

__

He and Kim go and run down their lead, and it feels weird, leaving Hailey at her desk, not sitting beside her in the truck on the way there or back now that she’s home. Kim shoots him a look as he glances up in the direction of the bullpen as they head back in a while later. 

__

“Don't worry, Jay. I'll _gladly_ give you back to Hailey on Monday.”

__

“Ha,” he mutters, pulling the door open for her. 

__

“Seemed like you two were having a pretty intense conversation when I came downstairs earlier,” she says, and he side-eyes her slowly. 

__

He shrugs. “Just catching up. Hadn't talked in a while.”

__

She rolls her eyes as they make their way upstairs. “Every time I turned around while she was gone you were texting her,” she says. 

__

“I wasn't _that_ bad,” he mutters. 

__

He _was_ that bad. He knows. If he wasn't texting her or drinking her in on FaceTime, he was thinking about her, missing her, distracted, which he's pretty sure was probably more annoying for Kim than anything else. 

__

“Yeah, okay,” she laughs. 

__

“Was I as bad as Kev and Adam would have been if they were separated?” 

__

She laughs louder, and he mentally pats himself on the back for the easy topic change. Truth is, he’s gonna miss working with Kim regularly. It’s not been the same easy, silent communication he and Hailey have built over the years, but it’s been _fun,_ like sparring with a sibling for hours on end but still actually liking and respecting each other at the end of the day. 

__

They reach the top of the stairs and she pauses, smiling at him. “What I said before, about you being insufferable.”

__

He shakes his head. “I know, you were joking.”

__

“Oh, god no,” she laughs. “I was dead-ass serious. It’s just... You seem happier, now that she’s back.”

__

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I am. She’s my partner.”

__

“Right,” she says slowly. “No offense, but if you left for a month, not sure I’d notice.” 

__

She laughs, though, and he rolls his eyes. 

__

“Pretty sure you’d be less annoyed,” he says, and she stops to consider it until he pushes her toward the door back into the bullpen. 

__

Their lead didn’t pan out, because this day can’t _actually_ be _that_ good, and he and Kim join Kevin, Adam, and Hailey back around the whiteboard to keep running it down. Hailey grabs a marker as they’re talking, jotting something down on the board, and he grins. 

__

She eyes him as she turns around, and he nods toward her scrawl on the board. “Looks like you remember how to use it after all.” 

__

She winks, and he loses track of the conversation for a minute thinking about the next time he’ll be able to get her alone. 

__

——————————

__

Turns out, it’s not too much later. They wrap up for the day and all agree to meet at Molly’s in a little while, and Hailey loiters by their desks for a few minutes as he straightens up while the rest of the team heads out. 

__

“Gonna guess you need a ride,” he says, pulling his jacket on and shifting his keys from hand to hand. 

__

“Well. I _could_ Uber. You might be better company, though.” 

__

_“Might?”_ He laughs, nodding toward the stairs and falling into step beside her. 

__

“I dunno,” she shrugs. “Been a while since I was in the car with you. You might have forgotten how to talk to me in person in the car and not over the phone.” 

__

“Miss talking to me on the phone that much already? You can sit in the backseat, pretend you’re back in the city in a taxi,” he smirks, letting his hand fall to her lower back as they make their way down the stairs. 

__

“You wanna get me in your backseat that bad, you might have to try harder,” she grins. 

__

He raises an eyebrow, glancing over at her. “Pretty sure I have text message proof from you saying I _wouldn’t_ have to try that hard.” 

__

“I might remember that,” she says, laughing as they make their way out to his truck. 

__

He reaches the truck before her, clicking the lock and reaching out to open her door for her. 

__

She eyes him carefully. “No, this is weird,” she laughs. “You can’t start being all _gallant_ now that I’m home and making out with you in stairwells.”

__

“Stairwells? As in more than one?” He grins, glancing back toward the building. “Can we go back upstairs? And then downstairs again?” 

__

She rolls her eyes, and he taps his fingers on the door. 

__

“It’s a _door,_ Hailey,” he says. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

__

She leans into the truck and tosses her bag in the backseat before turning back to him. “Whoever said I wanted you to be a gentleman?” 

__

He raises an eyebrow, leaning into her a little, their bodies shielded from the rest of the parking lot by the door. His fingers trail her hip slowly, and he leans in closer, his lips at her ear. “Feel free to tell me _exactly_ what you want, Hailey.” 

__

He watches her cheeks flush, goosebumps pilling her skin in the setting sun, her body arching closer to him. 

__

He thought she was gonna wreck him from states away. He’s no match for her, here, now. 

__

“I-- “ she starts, her blue eyes bright, her voice low. A car pulls by, radio blasting, and breaks the spell, and she closes her eyes slowly. When they open, he smirks at her slightly. “Right now,” she whispers, “I want you to take like, three steps back, so you don’t force me to get popped for public indecency at work.” 

__

He laughs, surprised, but steps back slowly, letting his fingers trail off her hip one at a time. He watches her climb in the truck, winking as he closes the door behind her and heads around to the driver’s side. 

__

He grins, watching her settle in next to him, adjusting the seatback to her normal position as he starts the engine. 

__

“It’s actually kind of dumb how much I’ve missed this truck,” she says. 

__

“She’s missed you too,” he laughs.

__

_“She?”_ Her eyebrow raises in question. 

__

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs. “She’s my best girl.” 

__

“Oh, really?”

__

_“She_ didn’t leave me for a month, so it’s really no contest,” he jokes, shifting away when she reaches out to shove him.

__

“God, you’re a nerd,” she whispers, grinning over at him. 

__

They fall quiet as he puts the truck in gear. “So,” he starts, “Wanna run home and change before Molly’s?”

__

“You _really_ want this shirt back, huh?”

__

“Oh, _desperately,”_ he grins. “But I can wait. Anticipation, or whatever,” he says, pulling out of his spot. 

__

She laughs as he pulls out of the parking lot, and it’s not tinny over the speakerphone anymore, but it still feels a little surreal even as her fingers tangle with his against his thigh. 

__

——————————

__

The Molly’s parking lot is crowded when they pull in, and he circles once before finding a spot in the back, the truck in almost complete darkness as he cuts the engine. 

__

“I didn't see any of their cars while we were circling,” she says, glancing around. 

__

“We're a little early,” he says. _“Someone_ didn't want to go home and change.”

__

“Jay,” she whispers, her fingers still on his thigh. “When you take me home, I can promise I'm not leaving anytime soon. And neither are you.”

__

He nods slowly, and she can just make it out in the dark. 

__

“Wanna go find a table, get a drink?” She asks, her voice low. 

__

He shakes his head this time. “Don’t think I’ve ever wanted a beer less.” 

__

She takes a slow, deep breath in, the air in the truck suddenly heavy. 

__

“When I was gone, and you’d sit here, in the truck, and talk to me, did you think about what would happen the next time I was sitting here with you?” She unbuckles her seatbelt, the quiet noise echoing in the cab of the truck. She watches his eyes track her movements, the drag of the belt from her hip up over her chest. 

__

He nods, and her eyes have adjusted to the dark enough that she can see him swallow, the bob of his Adam's apple pronounced. 

__

“Did you think about kissing me?” Her fingers trail up his thigh slowly, over hard muscle. 

__

“Hailey-- “

__

“I know,” she whispers. “You _always_ think about kissing me,” she rolls her eyes, teasing. “But did you ever think about kissing me here?”

__

He nods, his eyes trailing her movements as she leans across the console. 

__

“Maybe in the backseat?” She asks, glancing toward the back of the cab. 

__

His laugh surprises her, and she grins. “Not saying I'm opposed to it in the future, but that backseat isn't big enough for what I wanna do with you.”

__

She bites her lip, a laugh bubbling out of her quietly. “That sounds promising,” she whispers. 

__

He just grins, cocky and smooth, and it's gonna be her undoing, she knows. 

__

“Doesn't mean you can't come kiss me now, kill a few minutes,” he says, his fingers pressing against her knee where it's leaning into the console. 

__

“Pretty sure you couldn't stop me.” It's awkward, and maybe a little painful, guiding her body across the small space toward him, but it feels worth it when his hands fall on her hips and she’s finally in his lap. 

__

She opens her mouth to say something, to laugh at the situation, maybe, but he just shakes his head and presses his thumb to her lower lip, dragging it down slowly and silencing whatever was about to fall from her lips. 

__

His lips are on hers a moment later, quicker than she can process, the bite of his teeth and the soothe of his tongue surprising her. It feels a little more desperate than the time they spent in the stairwell, a little needier. She presses her palms to the back of his neck, massaging into the muscle there, and he groans quietly into her mouth. 

__

She can’t tell if it's tension release or buildup, but she needs to hear him make the noise again, however she can manage it. 

__

She doesn't have to wait long, the next kiss drags a rough, needy noise out of him as her tongue slips into his mouth, and she smiles against his lips. 

__

“I really don't get how _just_ kissing you is _this_ good,” he whispers, his breath ghosting against her cheek as his hands run up and down her thighs slowly. 

__

“I told you,” she says, shifting in his lap slightly, grinning at the way his hands shift with her to keep her where he wants. “We're good together.”

__

He nods, and she can't decide if she wants to kiss his sweet smile away or just stare at it for a while. He chooses for her, his lips finding hers again, the kiss slow but no less desperate as his hands hold her against him and his hips press up against her ever so slightly. 

__

It's her turn to groan, his body hard and strong under her. She circles her hips slowly down against him in response and drags her lips down across his jaw to his neck, pressing her teeth to his skin lightly. 

__

He groans quietly and she does it again, her hips faster, her teeth sharper. 

__

“Hailey,” he whispers, his voice more ragged than she's ever heard it. His hands slide up her thighs and skim over her waist, surprising a gasp out of her against his skin as his thumbs brush over her breasts, just rough enough she can feel the pressure against her nipples through two layers of fabric. 

__

She breathes a sigh against his neck and arches into him, and his quiet overwhelmed laughter urges her on, brings her lips back to his, her teeth grazing his bottom lip slowly. 

__

She closes her eyes and loses herself, kisses him slowly in the dark of the truck, lets herself moan into his mouth as his fingers slide back down her waist and push up under the fabric of her shirt, his fingertips warm on her skin as blunt nails drag up her sides. 

__

She sighs and shudders out a breath against him as his thumbs run over the lace of her bra, and it’s almost too good. 

__

“Jay,” she sighs, her fingers running up through his hair, her mouth opening under his again as his thumbs brush against her. She rolls her hips against him again slowly, and the noise he makes as his lips leave hers will stick with her.

__

“Too much?” He whispers, his fingers stilling, the exact opposite of what she needs. 

__

“No,” she says, her voice as breathy as it is desperate. “Not enough.” 

__

_“Jesus,_ Hailey,” he groans, a thumb slipping under the lace of her bra and dragging over her nipple. His lips trail down her neck and she arches against him, his palm cupping her breast as she rocks against him again. The sound he makes against her neck is lethal, a hot gasp of a breath against her skin, and as good as it sounds, she wants to feel it against her lips. 

__

She tugs at his short hair as best she can, guiding his lips back to hers as his hands shift against her skin, rolling a nipple gently between his fingers. His other hand drags down her body, fixing on her hip and squeezing as she moves against him again. 

__

She rocks against him, a near-desperate urge to it now. This is so much more than she bargained for when she glanced around the dark parking lot and knew she needed to kill some time kissing him. She shouldn’t be surprised, not with the way her body has reacted to his every touch, the way her mind has raced with possibility from just his voice over the phone line for weeks. 

__

Through the haze of want, she leans back slightly to give him better access to her body, opening her eyes just enough to see his face illuminated by lights that weren’t there previously. 

__

_Headlights._ Headlights are shining through the increasing fog of the windows, and she wills her body to calm down.

__

It wakes her up enough to remember they’re here for a reason, and what started as a need to kiss him has escalated to the point where she knows if they don’t stop now, she won’t be able to. She'd be lying if she said she didn't want him now, but she knows it'll be worth the wait to get him in her bed. 

__

“Jay,” she whispers.

__

“I know,” he says, almost a moan, his lips trailing to bite at her jaw. And, okay, she can’t blame him. His name on her lips probably sounded like pure sin, exactly where her mind is currently. She lets his lips linger on her jaw for a moment, gasping against him as his lips find her earlobe. 

__

She says his name again, trying to keep the moan out of it, her fingers dragging down his neck and around, so her palms can press against his chest. And it’s almost enough to distract her, hard planes of muscle under her hands, but her phone vibrates on her seat next to them. It lights up the cab again, and that seems to bring him around too, his lips shifting up to press against her temple, his breath evening out slowly against her. 

__

She runs her palms down his chest, letting her fingers touch him until the last possible inch when she has to pull them away. She reaches over for her phone, shifting in his lap, his hand on her hip flexing quick-slow-quick against her. 

__

“It’s Kim,” she says, swiping the message open. “They’re all here, they just got a table.”

__

He nods, his fingers slipping down her body and out from under her shirt, toying with the hem. “I was _just_ about to get my damn shirt back, too,” he smirks, and she doesn’t know if the grin or the ragged edge to his voice is sexier. 

__

“You are some kinda saint,” she whispers, trailing her free hand up over his ear to smooth out the hair she’s mussed. “And I promise, you take me home later, there won’t be any more interruptions.”

__

“I dunno if you can really promise that,” he says, leaning in to press his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Might wanna let me take you home _now,_ just in case. Or, at minimum, the backseat,” he smirks, nodding over his shoulder.

__

She grins against his lips. “Oh, so _now_ it seems like a good idea. You make a _very_ compelling case, detective,” she says, rolling her hips against him once more, watching his eyes drift shut. “But if we get in that backseat, I'm not gonna wanna leave.”

__

“Sorry, is that an actual problem?”

__

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips to his once more quickly as she shifts her body to the side and back over the console to her seat. His eyes open and trail her back over, his hand on her hip still to keep her steady. 

__

She flips the visor down, light spilling into the truck from the mirror, and inspects for any damage or telltale sign of what they’ve been up to out here. She can feel his eyes on her, and when she glances over, he just lifts the corner of his mouth in a small smile, watching her quietly. 

__

“Hmm?”

__

“You _sure_ you wanna go in there and hang out with those dummies?” He asks, his voice teasing, incredulous. 

__

“I haven’t seen them in a month,” she says. 

__

“I’ve seen them every day for the last month. They’re not that great,” he shrugs. “You know who I haven’t seen _nearly_ enough of?” His fingers drag across the top of her knee, and she laughs. 

__

“I can guess,” she grins. “But, I kinda missed them.” 

__

“I kinda missed you,” he whispers, and it feels vulnerable, and important, even though it’s not new information. 

__

“Only kinda?” She whispers, running a hand through her hair to straighten it as she glances over at him. 

__

“Remember that entire conversation we had about how literally everything you do is sexy, but it’s annoyingly sexy when you tease me?” 

__

She nods, trying not to laugh. 

__

“If you want me to be able to go in there without every second of what we were just doing out here, or in the stairwell, or any other place you’ve let me kiss you, written all over my face, I’m gonna need you to stop being sexy for like, a minute.”

__

“God, I just don’t think that’s possible,” she laughs, flipping the visor closed and swiping open her phone to finally reply to Kim with an ETA. “But, how about this. You take your minute, I’ll go be sexy elsewhere and freshen up in the bathroom, and then you can meet me at the table, we’ll have a couple drinks, and we’ll see how sexy you find me then.” 

__

She’s reaching for the door handle before he can even answer, because she knows if he says anything remotely sweet or sexy or funny, or looks at her for a moment too long, she’s going to be back across that console and in his lap, and they might have to live in the parking lot for the rest of time. 

__

But he just nods and she smiles, hopping down out of the truck as he slowly moves to follow her. 

__

“Hey,” she whispers, leaning back in before she closes the door. “I kinda missed you, too.” 

__

He grins, slow and easy, and it absolutely would’ve been enough to get her back in his lap.

__

It was enough to convince her to come back a day early. 

__

It was enough to bring her home. 

__

She hears the soft echo of his door closing as she heads through the parking lot, and she tries to steady herself to be near him in a group setting, in _public_ where they know people, again. Even though she was 800 miles away, they had a bubble, with space for just the two of them, no matter the distance. A safe place she could fall into, over the phone or through text, or for too short a time in person. A place that was hard to shake herself out of, a haze of missing him, of wanting him endlessly.

__

It’s still there, in the heated space between their bodies in his truck, in the stairwell, even though she’s here, _home,_ with him. She’s finally able to touch him in this way that feels natural, _right,_ but still new and exciting in such a familiar place. She knows that staying in that bubble isn’t always going to be possible. People are going to find out, she and Jay will _want_ their friends to find out, eventually, she knows. 

__

She glances back at him as she reaches the door, watching his slow gait toward her. He looks like he’s preparing himself too, like he’s stepping out of a fog of desire, _of her,_ built on weeks, months of need. 

__

She pulls the door open, loud music engulfing her, and she starts the countdown to getting him alone again. 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! (And if for some reason you didn't read the note at the beginning, this is NOT the last chapter. Look out for chapter 21 soon.)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! So. A bummer of a night, huh? I had planned to post the full chapter 21/final chapter this weekend, but when One Chicago got preempted, I figured we could all use a little joy tonight. So this is (again) not the final chapter. The remainder will be up this weekend, once it's all tidy and edited.

_‘Cause you're here, and you're all mine;_  
_So I press my lips down to your neck_  
_and I stay there, and I reconnect._  
_\-- Incomplete (James Bay)_

He follows after her through the parking lot, keeping a far enough distance that he won't be entirely tempted to pull her back against him, haul her back to the truck and not let her go. 

She looks over her shoulder as she opens the door, throwing him an easy, killer smile before disappearing inside, and he slows his pace, enjoying the night air, the wind, letting himself relax a little more before heading into the loud bar. 

_I miss the wind… and you._

_I kinda missed you, too._

It's ridiculous how much has changed between those two sentences, and how it all feels _right_ and _new,_ but not at all surprising. How she's been gone for weeks, but he knows her better now, knows he never wants her to leave again. 

How he already kinda misses her, and she's barely twenty feet away. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, heading in. He glances to the right to see if he can catch a glimpse of her blonde hair heading toward the bathroom, but that feels like a dangerous game, and so he turns left, winding his way through the bar toward their usual area. 

Kevin, Adam, and Kim are settled in the back, a round of beers in the middle of the table. Of course, it figures, it takes Hailey coming back for him to get out of buying the first round. 

“Where's Hailey?” Kim asks, eyeing him closely. 

“Bathroom,” he says, pulling out a chair and settling in, reaching for a beer before he's even made it all the way down. He wonders if he should've said he didn't know, if his ability to keep tabs on her is too far past normal partner protocol. 

“What, dude, you're not even gonna say thanks?” Adam asks, gesturing toward the beer. 

He rolls his eyes. _“Thanks,_ Ruze.”

“You're welcome,” Adam grins, taking a swig of his own beer. 

“Bro,” Kevin says, _“I paid.”_

“And _I_ got you a thank you,” Adam grins. “And you got to go flirt with Maya, so don't act put out.”

It's Kevin's turn to roll his eyes, and they're all laughing as Hailey's voice finds them. 

“Come on, guys, I'm back now. Don't bond without me,” she says, and he can hear the twinge of uncertainty in her laughter. It hadn't occurred to him that confident, sassy Hailey might feel the tiniest bit of nerves easing back into life here since she'd settled in so easily at the district, but as he glances around the group, it clicks a little. For as easily as he and Hailey had fallen back into it, into their normal banter, even amid new situations, he knows coming back home and adjusting can be hard, no matter the distance or time or location. 

While she was gone, he'd gone out with the others more often than usual. He'd been bored, looking for distraction, missing his normal routine with Hailey after a case. But for as much as the team sees each other, it's relatively rare all five of them go out together as a group. 

He pushes out the chair for her as she reaches his side and she grins at him quickly as she sits down. 

The shock of her in the bullpen, the stolen moment in the stairwell, his _need_ for her in the truck, had all masked it, but he sees it now as she reaches for a beer. 

It's hard to just fall back into things, but watching her small grin around the lip of the bottle puts him a little more at ease. She can do it. 

“Sooo,” Adam drawls, and it sounds like the start to gossip if Jay's ever heard it. “Tell us everything.”

She glances at him quickly and grins. She won't be telling them everything. Some things are just for them -- the early morning heat in her hotel room, holding hands on the High Line, every moment he spent on the Brooklyn Bridge with her, in person or not. But she can tell them the slightly less-life changing stuff. 

“First,” she starts, “I will never complain about paperwork again. I don't think I've ever spent so much time on reports.”

“Well, there goes my career as a Fed,” Adam sighs. 

“Yes, Adam, that's the only obstacle between you and the FBI,” Kim mutters. “How'd it work? Did you have a partner?”

He watches her nod and listens to her tell them a little about OA, about how she'd filled in for his partner who was undercover. 

“But was he a better partner than Halstead? You can be honest.” Kim tosses him a wink, and it makes him laugh so quickly that he's distracted enough it takes him a moment to feel Hailey's hand on his knee. 

Her fingers squeeze lightly and he feels her eyes on him for a moment. 

“He was a good partner,” she says, finally, her thumb drawing little nonsense shapes over the denim of his knee. 

“So that's a yes,” Kevin tosses out, and he tries to look offended when Hailey just shrugs and smirks around the lip of her beer bottle, but he's not sure it works. 

Her nails drag across his knee and he glances down at them and then over at her quickly. 

_It's what makes you the best partner I've ever had._

“Y'all have been spending too much time with Kim,” he mutters, and it earns a laugh as fingers trace tiny circles a little higher up his leg. 

He shifts his beer to his other hand, spinning it distractedly on the table so his free hand can fall to his lap and drag cold fingers over her wrist, stilling her hand. It's dark enough in here and they’re hidden far enough at the corner of the table that he's not worried anyone will see. 

But he's a little worried she might _actually_ kill him, might _finally_ wreck him just enough he doesn't make it through. 

“What about the city? I've only been a couple times while I was still flying,” Kim says. 

“I _loved_ it,” she says, and hearing the smile in her voice, being able to look over and see it in person just a couple of feet away, makes it near impossible to not lean over and kiss it away. He settles for brushing his fingers over the pulse point of her wrist, watching her smile falter for a split second. 

She tells them about Times Square and Central Park, the Fed building, the little bodega down the block from her hotel, the horrible pizza, her hand still, warm on his knee the whole time. 

Kevin asks about her favorite thing she did in the city, and her hand squeezes his knee again, sliding up higher, her fingers curving around to his inner thigh. 

“Dunno if I can pick a favorite. Anything that gave me a view of the city from up high was good. The Brooklyn Bridge, Top of the Rock, The High Line.”

He's a little distracted by her hand, her fingers wandering higher with every passing moment, but it's not lost on him those are all places they went together. 

Places he’d go a million more times, if it ended with them both here, like this. 

Her fingers drag along his inseam, and he’s beyond stopping her at this point, his own fingers just tracing the inside of her forearm with every shift she makes. It reminds him of the dark city sky, bright headlights and billboards blazing by, her hand on his thigh in the back of a cab. 

It still gives him the same heady, buzzy feeling it did states away, and he has to remind himself she's _home_ again, it's real. 

Almost like it's from a great distance, he can hear them shift to talking about what she'd missed here. He’s pretty sure he'd told her all of it and she's not super invested in the conversation, because her fingers slide higher, pressing hard over his zipper as she answers, and he chokes out a cough around the lip of his beer. 

Her palm is warm through the denim as it drags over him, and he clears his throat as he pulls away empty on the next quick pull of his beer. 

She glances at him quickly, a smirk on her lips. “You good, Jay?” He hears the others chuckle. 

He was wrong -- she's not gonna wreck him, destroy him. She's gonna _kill_ him, he's not gonna make it away from this table. 

He manages to nod, shooting her what he knows she reads as a desperate, needy glance. Her palm gentles a little, sliding just a fraction lower, and he tries to calmly take a deep breath in. 

“Yeah,” he forces out. “Just gonna need a refill,” he says, shaking his empty beer bottle. 

Her nails drag down his thigh slowly, and he's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed. 

“Think it's your turn, buddy,” he hears Adam say, and this time, he doesn't hide the groan he feels. 

“Dude, is it _ever_ your turn?” 

Beside him, Hailey laughs over Adam's mock-offended noise, her laughter mixing in with the group, the noisy din of the bar -- and he knows he'd missed it while she was gone, but he really hadn’t known how much until this exact moment. 

“You know what,” she says, her fingers pressing against his knee again, “this one’s on me. I haven’t bought in a while.” Her hand flexes against his knee as she stands, and he misses the warmth immediately. His next inhale feels slightly less ragged, though, slightly more in control, so it might be a good thing. 

She collects a few empties and he watches her walk off to the bar, turning back to tune into the story Kim’s telling about her niece. He thinks about getting up to follow Hailey, but he knows it would be a tell they’re not quite ready for. 

A couple of minutes pass as he zones out a little, absolutely not thinking about her hand on his thigh, but Kevin’s voice brings him back to the conversation. 

“Damn,” he whispers, nodding toward that bar. “That new guy from 51 is going all-in on Upton.” 

He tries to play it casually, but he probably turns around too quickly. A guy he recognizes as one of the new probies from 51 is leaning into Hailey’s space, and Jay tries not to laugh at the expression on her face. She’s trying to be nice, but it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t have a shot. 

_“Ooh,_ yeah, that’s a no,” Kim says, shaking her head. “Gotta hand it to the guy though, that’s brave.” 

“Think he knows she could take him down without dropping a single one of those beers?” Adam asks, laughter in his voice, and Jay shakes his head, trying to control his grin. 

“Don’t think he has a clue,” he says. He’s seen a million guys flirt with her over the years, coworkers and suspects and random guys in bars, and he’s never once worried about her holding her own. The urge to punch this guy is a little stronger than some he’s seen, but he knows it has less to do with the actual flirting and more to do with seeing _anyone_ get her attention right now when he desperately wants her all to himself. 

“Girl code says I should go bail her out, but I kinda want to see her make him cry a little if it comes to that,” Kim says, laughing. They’re all pretty fixated on the bar now, and Jay shakes his head.

“Nah, she’s good,” he says. He watches her for a minute longer, the long line of her neck as she tucks her hair behind her ear and glances down the bar, waiting for their drinks. His skin prickles with heat slowly as he glances away, and he knows she’s glanced over at him, knows the table is watching, has her back if need be. 

He watches the guy lean in and sees her shake her head. His body prickles with heat again as her eyes linger on him over the guy’s shoulder. Her gaze is heavy, and it’s a new, heated feeling, watching her from across a room -- not over FaceTime, not from a couple of feet away, not as _just_ partners silently checking in with each other. 

It feels private and flirty, and a little dangerous in the best way. 

He wants to watch her for hours, maybe just like this, but she gives a small half-smile as the guy finally gets the hint and walks away, and then it’s just her eyes on him as she waits for their beers. 

He _wants_ to watch her for hours, but he knows he’ll never survive it. Just this couple of minutes has him on edge, antsy and wanting, needing her alone as soon as he can get it. 

She turns the half-smile on him, and it slips into a smirk like she can read his thoughts, and he’s up and out of his chair before he can even make up an excuse. 

“You good, dude?” Adam asks, eyeing him for a moment. 

He nods, smoothing the cuff of his button-down distractedly. “Yeah. Just gotta stretch my legs a little,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m gonna-- “

Adam nods, but he catches him exchanging glances with Kim. “Yeah, bro. You do you.” 

He’s being awkward and weird, he knows, so he just cuts his losses and heads toward the bathroom hallway. He tries not to obviously stare but lets himself toss a quick wink at Hailey as he passes by the bar, her gaze still distracting. 

——————————

She watches him pass by, the wink he tosses her maybe the most fleetingly sexy thing he’s ever done. 

By the time she's finally gotten their beers and has made it back to the table, he's still not back. She glances toward his empty chair as she sets the round down and Kevin shrugs at her. 

“Guy’s squirrelly sometimes,” he says, his eyes on the bar behind her. She knows he's watching Maya, his quote-unquote _hot bartender_ move around the crowd, but when she turns to smirk about it to Kim, she and Adam are close together, having a hushed conversation that feels a little too personal to interrupt. 

She murmurs a quick _be back_ to the mostly distracted table and grabs two bottles before heading off in the direction she'd seen Jay go. 

Maybe it's years of working together, of tracking him through crowds and down gangways.

Maybe it's just the fact that she always wants to be near him, but she doesn't have to search the maze of hallways down near the bathrooms for long to find his tall frame slouched against the wall in the near-dark. 

“Hey,” he grins, his eyes meeting hers in the dark as her boots click on the tile. 

“Hey.” She smirks, holding out a bottle to him. 

His fingers brush hers against the bottle and it's dumb, really, how it still sends a spark through her after all the other ways she's touched him today.

“See?” He says, tipping the bottle toward her, “I told you, you're the only hot bartender for me.”

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide a smile behind a drag of her own cold beer. 

“Didn't feel like flirting?” His voice is low, a laugh at the edges. She'd known he'd watched the awkward bar encounter, and she grins slowly. 

“I came to find you, didn't I?” 

His smile is easy, slow, and she wants to fall into it, into the warm buzz that flows through her thinking about his voice over the phone at this same bar weeks ago. 

“This where you stumbled on Kev and _his_ hot bartender making out?” She asks quietly, glancing around the dark hallway. 

He nods, bringing his own bottle to his lips. She tries to look away, but his mouth on the rim of the bottle is lethal. 

“Pretty good spot, really. Kinda out of the way.” 

He nods again, glancing away for a moment before stepping closer. “You managed to find me back here.” 

“Well, I’m an _excellent_ detective,” she whispers. 

He smirks. “That's better than pretty decent. You think _very_ highly of yourself.”

“And I should,” she grins, letting herself step just a fraction closer.

His eyes fall to her lips as she steps in closer and the condensation from his beer bottle seeps into the side of her shirt as his fingers skim her hips. 

“You _definitely_ should,” he whispers. “Since you're an excellent detective, you probably already know this. But I had a whole plan, for tomorrow.” 

“A _whole plan,_ huh?”

He shrugs. “I was going to get you flowers, and meet you at baggage claim, carry your luggage, lunch at Bartoli’s…” He trails off as she bites her lip, and his eyes on her lips will never not be the most distracting thing. She's happy to see it seems to make him lose his focus too. 

“I think we've established you're better than flowers, so don't need those,” she teases. “And this isn't baggage claim or luggage, but here,” she says, holding out her beer bottle to him. He smirks, but takes it, leaning over slowly to set it on the floor along with his own near their feet, letting his eyes trail her legs on the way back up. 

“It's the dinner rush,” she continues as he meets her eyes again. “But I'm sure if we try hard enough we can snag a table at Bartoli’s if you’re hungry.” 

“I think I can wait.” He grins, and she just stares at him, lets herself soak him in, the sweet curve of his lips, the way his eyes haven't left her. 

“Jay,” she says quietly. “Did any part of your plan for tomorrow involve kissing me?”

“Maybe,” he whispers. “And maybe the day after that, and the next…” He trails off again and she steps closer, pressing her fingers against his shirt collar. 

_“_ Then _kiss me,_ Jay,” she whispers. 

He steps forward and presses his fingers to her hips again, pulling her closer against him in the dark shadows of the hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, quietly. 

She knows this won't just be another kiss in a new location, like their time in the stairwell, their exchange in his truck. It’ll be a _we’re doing this, this is where you belong, with me, no matter where we are_ kiss. And it's all she's thought about since she got off the plane, it’s all she’s thought about for a week (and longer, before she even knew how his smile felt against her own.)

She nods, her fingers brushing up over his neck and he walks her back slowly, so her back’s almost pressed against the wall. 

“No more pain, you're sure?” His fingers slide up to her waist, pressing just slightly harder, watching her expression. 

She thinks about the twinge of pain when Kim had hugged her, the tweak she’d felt climbing over the console into his lap, but he smiles at her and she feels like she’s _home,_ like nothing could hurt her right in this moment with him. 

“I'm sure,” she whispers. “Kiss me.”

He's smiling as he leans in, his hands pressing her gently back against the wall. Everything else fades out at the edges as his lips meet her smile, and she can't remember if they're on The High Line, in an elevator or a hotel room, in a quiet stairwell, or his truck, or a room away from their friends in a loud bar. 

He kisses her slowly, lazy, and she melts into it in the dark. Because it feels like the first time still, but his lips move against her with confidence, like they’ve been doing this for years. 

Like he knows they will be, like he _wants to,_ like it’s all he’s trying to tell her in the dark, finally no tinny audio, no phone screen between them. 

And she wants to remember the moment, the way he’d grinned as she’d turned down the hallway, the way his fingers grip her hips like even though she’s here now, closer than she’s been in weeks, he still can’t get her close enough. It's surreal in the best way, and she grins against his lips as his fingers skate over to her arm. 

And maybe it’s a little surreal for him, too, because his fingers pinch at the skin of her elbow quickly and she bites at his lip and laughs in surprise. 

“Ow,” she whispers, pulling back, but just like his reaction in her hotel room, it’s just for show.

“Sorry,” he whispers, guiding her arm to his lips and pressing his lips to the crook of her elbow slowly, holding her gaze. “Just had to make sure this whole day hasn’t been a dream.” 

_“And?”_ She tries not to let her voice shake, but his lips on her skin set her aflame faster than she was prepared for. 

“Better than any dream I've ever had,” he says, a grin she wants to kiss making its way across his lips. 

And okay, she wants to roll her eyes. Because yeah, it's cheesy. But she just smirks and pulls him closer, pushing up on her tiptoes slightly to kiss him, slow and easy. 

His mouth opens under hers and she kisses him for a long minute, her fingers dragging over the buttons at his neck, slipping one, two, undone before he pulls back, laughing and shaking his head. 

“Dangerous game, Hailey.” His voice is low, rough, his breath ghosting over her cheek. 

“Who says it’s a game? And if it is, I think I’m winning.” She runs her hands down, over warm skin revealed by his open collar, and watches him close his eyes slowly. 

It only lasts a moment until he laughs, leaning back in to kiss her, dragging her lower lip between his teeth. She sighs as he opens his eyes and pulls back, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from his chest, intertwining their fingers at her sides. 

“If you keep unbuttoning my shirt, we’re not gonna make it out of this hallway.” 

“Yeah?” She mumbles, pressing up on her tiptoes again to press her lips against his jaw. 

He doesn’t let her hands go, but he doesn’t stop her, and she bites a slow line across his jaw until a groan rumbles out of him. He pins her hands against the wall, and she can feel the curve of his smile as she ghosts her lips over his quickly before working her way down his neck. 

“Hailey,” he whispers, once she’s reached the base of his neck. “That night I called you from here, right after you told me you wanted me to come see you?”

She hums a little noise against his neck, urging him on when he doesn’t immediately continue.

“I wanted you to be here, with me.” 

She nods, trailing her lips up to bite at his earlobe. “I know,” she whispers, smiling against his skin as his grip on her hands tightens. “You wanted to do this. _I_ wanted to do this.”

His quiet laugh surprises her, and she pulls back slightly to look at him. 

“Sure,” he smirks. “But mostly? I wanted you to be here so I could take you home at the end of the night.” 

She bites her lip, nodding slowly. “Well. I’m here now.” 

He mirrors her nod, and she knows he’s trying to hide a grin as he gestures over his shoulder to their abandoned beer bottles, sweating condensation on the floor. “Wanna finish your beer?”

She shakes her head, brushing her thumbs across his knuckles.

“Wanna go hang out with Kim, Kev, and Adam?”

She smiles, but shakes her head again, tugging against his hands to pull him closer.

“Just you,” she whispers. 

He can’t hide his grin now, his lips just millimeters from hers. “Okay.”

“Jay?” She whispers, brushing her lips against his slowly, once. “Take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more week until Upstead is back on our screens! In the meantime, comments and kudos make everyone feel a little better!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! This is really the final chapter this time, I promise. A fair warning -- there is a good amount of smut ahead, and if that's not your thing, I'm sorry! 
> 
> There will be a longer thank you in the end notes, but for now, let me say -- THANK YOU. I don't think I know the words to adequately tell you all how much your feedback and support and love for this fic has meant to me. Sincerely, thank you. 
> 
> One last time for this one; I'm fromiftowhen on Tumblr and Twitter. Let's. Be. Friends.

_“Home is where your story starts.”_  
_\-- Annie Danielson_

He manages to button the buttons she’d undone and pull her out of the dark hallway. They make flimsy excuses and say quick goodbyes to the guys, all of them distracted, and by the time they’re settled back in his truck, he’s pretty sure most of his willpower is gone. 

He just watches her for a moment until she leans in to kiss him, but he pulls back slowly on a moan a moment later. 

_“Hailey,”_ he whispers, running his fingers down her arm, “If you actually wanna go home, you have to stop touching me, or I swear we won’t make it there.” 

She raises an eyebrow, smirking slowly. 

“No,” he laughs. “Just, like, pretend you’re still 800 miles away, whatever you’ve gotta do until we’re no longer in public.” 

She nods slowly and settles back in her seat, buckling her seatbelt, and honestly, it feels a little too easy. But he just lets his eyes roam over her body once more before putting the truck in gear and pulling out of his spot. 

He pulls left out of the parking lot, in the direction of her house and the opposite of his, glancing over just briefly to check-in. She’s not paying attention though, buried in her phone. 

His phone dings with a text message as he pulls to a stop at the next red light, and he glances over at her as he reads the name on the display.

She just nods toward his phone and he picks it up, swiping it open.

My house? What, you don’t want me in your bed, Jay?  
  


He just rolls his eyes as he glances over at her, and she shrugs. “What? You told me to pretend I was still 800 miles away. This is what I’d be doing.” 

He nods, glancing up at the light. Still red. He types out a quick message, sending it just as the light turns green.

“I swear to god, if you reply to that, I _will_ end up crashing this truck.” 

She just grins, glancing down at her phone, and he tries to focus back on the road, the traffic, and not the dimple in her smile. 

I want you everywhere, Hailey. 800 miles away or not.   
  


——————————

He trails her up the stairs to her front door a little while later. She tosses a grin at him over her shoulder as she unlocks the door, and he pauses before stepping over the threshold. 

It feels like a moment he’ll want to remember, so different from every other time he’s visited her at home. 

He watches her glance around the entryway, taking it in, checking on things, before he follows her in and closes the door. 

“Is it gonna be weird without Rojas?” He asks, watching her glance over a few framed pictures near the door. 

She nods, turning back to him. “Yeah, but it’ll be okay. It was the right opportunity for her,” she says. 

They haven’t talked about it, the undercover assignment Rojas had taken suddenly, but he knows Hailey will miss her more than she lets on. She glances back over at the photos for a moment, and when her eyes find him again, she’s smirking.

“You know,” she says, stepping closer, “Vanessa would tell me I was an idiot right now.”

“Oh?” He wants to reach out, pull her against him, but the sassy, sexy smirk making its way across her face as she steps even closer tells him it’ll be worth it to wait just a little longer.

“Mhmm,” she murmurs. “Because I was standing here, _talking about her,_ when I’ve finally got you totally alone, when I’m _finally_ home.” 

“I mean, I’m not gonna call you an idiot, _I’m_ not that big of an idiot,” he grins, “but she wouldn’t be totally wrong.” 

She smiles, finally close enough to lean up and press her lips to his. Her fingers drag up his chest, tangling over the buttons at his collar again. He smiles against her lips, pulling back for just a moment.

_“Someone’s_ pretty eager,” he teases, and she just shrugs, slipping the first couple buttons undone.

“And you’re not?” She kisses him again as her fingers work open his remaining buttons quickly, and her palms are cool against his heated skin on their way back up his bare chest. He shrugs out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor a few feet inside her door, watching her eyes trail his movements the whole way.

He smirks. “I didn't say that,” he whispers, his thumbs running over the fabric of her shirt. “I _do_ still want my shirt back.”

She pulls her hands from his chest and he wants to groan, but she raises her arms, an open invitation, and all he can do is grin. 

“So we're doing this,” he says slowly, shaking his head. 

She just raises an eyebrow. “Feels like we've waited long enough.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against hers slowly. His fingers sneak to the hem of her shirt and he pushes it up, his palms running up over her smooth skin. It feels surreal still, too good to be true, her warm, soft skin under his hands, her bright, smirky smile just inches from his lips. 

She's grinning as she disappears in the fabric for a moment, and reaching back out for him as it slips over her head and to the floor, joining his. 

Hailey is shirtless in front of him, and it feels like the culmination of a month of flirting and desire and _need,_ and somehow, still, he just wants to look at her, take her in, make sure she's really here, finally home. 

And then she smirks again, that sassy, sexy edge that drove him crazy over a thousand FaceTime calls. That smirk that tells him she's a second away from making fun of him. 

And suddenly, just looking at her, taking her in… it's not remotely enough. He trails his fingers over her stomach, up over her ribs, tripping over still slightly bruised skin. He glances up at her but doesn't ask again. 

If she's sure, she's sure, and he's not gonna argue. 

He leans forward, his eyes on hers, and presses his lips to her neck slowly. 

“You said start here, right?” He whispers, his breath ghosting over her suddenly flushed skin. 

Her fingers land in his hair, holding him there, and it's all the answer he needs. 

He chuckles against her skin, lets his lips linger against her neck while her fingers scratch over his scalp. He moves lower and bites a kiss to her collarbone, his fingers trailing up over the edge of her bra slowly. The stolen moments in his truck had been a tease of touches in the dark, but now that he can see the goosebumps that rise on her chest as his fingers glide over her skin, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop.

She lets out a breathy moan as his fingers trail a path over her, brushing his thumbs over her nipples through the lace, and he knows he’ll never _want_ to stop.

It’s only because he’s listening so closely for another whispered, breathy noise from her as his fingers work under the lace of her bra that he even hears his phone ring a few moments later. He groans quietly, but she doesn’t protest as he pulls away. 

“Literally, don’t move,” he says, and she just smirks.

She _gets_ it, she knows their job doesn’t always end just because they’ve left for the day, or they want it to, or just because he _desperately needs_ it to right now. 

He pulls his phone from his pocket and rolls his eyes, relieved. “It’s just Will,” he says, silencing the call and putting it back in his pocket. When he glances back up, she’s gathering their shirts from the floor.

“Hey,” he whispers, watching her reach over to hang them over the stair rail. “Thought you weren't supposed to move.”

“What?” She grins. “I might let you put that back on later, may as well not let it wrinkle. And, _I’m sorry,_ does _this thing,”_ she gestures between them, “require me to follow your orders? Sexy as you barking orders might be, that's not gonna work on me,” she says, but he cuts off her laugh with a kiss as he reaches her again. 

“You can do _whatever_ you want, Hailey,” he murmurs, his lips working their way back down her neck, needing to pick up where they left off. “As long as it doesn't require you to be clothed, or out of arm's reach anytime soon.”

“Mmm.” She nods, running her hands back up his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning back slightly so his lips fall from her neck. “And what if I wanted to go upstairs, get in my own bed? Would that be out of arm's reach?”

He smiles, trailing his hands over her waist and down so they can run over her ass, palming the denim of her jeans and lifting her before she can protest. The surprised noise she makes against his cheek makes him laugh as her arms wind around his neck closer and her legs wrap around his hips. 

“I think we can probably make that work,” he whispers. He starts up the stairs as her nails drag down the back of his neck, and any other time, he might stop, strip her down right here on the stairs, but that feels too rushed, too frantic for the first time. 

He finds his way to her doorway, and he’s not winded or ready to put her down, but her lips have been trailing up his neck the entire trek up the stairs, so he’s all too happy to press her back against the bed slowly, to give himself a moment to _maybe, hopefully,_ compose himself. 

He presses his lips to hers slowly, and he’s just about to let her pull him back in, let her run the show, when his phone buzzes in his pocket again. 

“Jesus,” he mutters, trying to ignore the sound as her fingers drag over his shoulders. 

“Jay,” she whispers, her lips at his ear. 

“I know,” he sighs, shifting to sit next to her reclined body, pulling his phone out. 

It’s Will, of course, and he groans, telling her. “Let me just call him. Two minutes,” he says. 

“Can’t you just text, like normal siblings?”

“He’s not a normal sibling,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Something about how he doesn’t trust me to not get abducted and held captive again, he needs proof of life verbally. Something like that,” he trails off, watching her smirk. 

“Right,” she says. _“He’s_ the Halstead brother who’s not normal.” 

He just shakes his head, watching her quietly for a moment.

“What?” She laughs, and _god,_ it’s his favorite sound. 

“Nothing,” he says, smiling. “It’s just… you’re shirtless and you’re still making fun of me. It’s _so_ sexy. You’re gonna wreck me, Hailey.” 

She just winks, sitting up. He sighs, holding himself back from just leaning over and kissing her, Will be damned. He dials, unbuckling his watch as the line rings, reaching over to put it on her nightstand as she stands from the bed. 

The line rings again as Hailey crosses her arms over her chest, running her hands up and down her arms. He can see goosebumps dotting her skin, her body cold the longer he isn’t touching it. He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t hear Will pick up at first. 

He can’t take his eyes off Hailey, or the way she’s watching him with a mischievous sass in her eyes that he’s just starting to recognize means he’s about to suffer in a really amazing way. Her arms uncross and her fingers trail down her stomach, and it’s only as he’s watching her slowly pop the first button of her jeans that he hears the throat-clearing in his ear.

“Jay.” By the sounds of it, it’s not the first time Will’s said his name. 

“Dude,” he says, praying his voice sounds more even-keel than he feels. “Sorry.”

The line is silent for a moment, and Hailey’s fingers work down to the second button on her jeans. 

“You called me, bro,” he hears, and it sounds like it’s coming from a million miles away. “What’s up?”

“Yeah, after you called me _twice,”_ he says, and he’s pretty sure on the other end of the line, his brother’s eye roll matches his own. 

Hailey’s working on the third button now, so slowly it feels like time is standing still. One more and she’ll be able to shimmy out of her jeans, and he’ll probably _die_ before it happens if the entire last month has taught him anything. 

Will’s throat clears again, and Jay tries to focus on the task at hand. He’s missed something. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” he manages to ask, a string of words he’s not sure how he managed to actually get out.

“You good, man?”

Hailey’s unbuttoning the final button now, and she hasn’t taken her eyes off him. He watches her shift her fingers back up to her waistband, preparing to take them off. He shakes his head, but she just raises an eyebrow, fingers not stopping.

“Jay.” 

He snaps back to attention, clearing his throat. “What? Yeah. I’m good. What’s up?”

Hailey’s almost laughing at him now, her shoulders shaking quietly, the movement drawing his eyes back up to her chest. He needs to end this phone call.

He reaches a hand out, quick enough that she’s not able to back away, his fingers catching on hers over the waistband of her jeans, pulling her closer to him and holding her hands still to keep the jeans on her body. To her credit, she doesn’t make a noise, but he can see she wants to.

It’s the only way he’s gonna make it through this call. 

“I said, _do you still wanna get that beer?_ I never heard from you.” Will’s voice comes back over the line, and he’s pretty sure a long, exasperated sigh preceded the words. 

“No, man, sorry. I’ve got plans tonight. Raincheck, next week?” 

It takes all of two seconds, the length of his answer, but he can already tell that his plan has backfired. Because Hailey isn’t trying to take her jeans off anymore, but she’s close enough, and he was lax enough in his grip, that before he can stop her she’s pressing a knee to the bed and straddling his lap. 

He tries to stay quiet, but her lips press against his neck immediately, her teeth bared against him, and he wants to ask if she’s actually _trying_ to kill him. 

He bites back a sigh and shifts his free hand so it’s on her hip. 

Will’s voice is rattling through the phone, but he hasn’t heard a single word. He catches the end of “Whatever, I’ll find a better option,” and rolls his eyes. 

“Great, thanks. Have a good night, bro--” he says, a quick closing, but Will’s voice stops him again. 

“Jay? Tell Hailey I said hi,” he says, and Hailey pulls away from his neck, obviously having heard the exchange. She looks a little surprised, maybe, but waves silently, and he wants to laugh, he wants to kiss her. 

“Yeah, uh,” he starts, shaking his head at Hailey, at a loss. “Tomorrow, I will. When I see her. Tomorrow,” he finishes quietly, shrugging. 

_“Yeah, okay,”_ Will says. “Bro, I’m already at Molly’s. I ran into Adam and Kim in the parking lot. I _know_ Hailey’s back.”

“Dude,” he starts, but Will’s laugh cuts him off. 

“You’re good. I get it. Have fun, happy for you, never tell me details. _Hi, Hailey, bye, Hailey,”_ he says, his voice a little louder at the end. 

It’s a real goodbye, apparently, because the line goes dead and he sets the phone on the nightstand next to his watch.

“Okay,” Hailey lets out a breath slowly, shifting her weight as his other hand lands on her hip. She starts to speak, but he can make out the word before it’s even all the way out of her mouth. He moves a hand to press his palm against her lips. 

He grins. “Don’t you dare call him best Halstead,” he says. 

She rolls her eyes, but he can feel her grin. She presses a kiss against his palm, and he pulls it back, settling it against her hip again. 

“So,” she says, and _thank god,_ that sassy, flirty edge is back, headier than ever. “You said you had plans tonight?” 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his hands running up her back, his fingers pressing against the clasp of her bra. “Just something I’ve tried to start a few times and haven’t been able to finish.” 

She grins, and it’s generous because it’s a dumb joke, but he’s a little distracted. He unhooks her bra, his fingers trailing over her soft skin to her shoulders to pull the straps down. Her bra hits the floor and she bites her lip slowly as his hands find her hips again, pulling her closer against his chest. 

“You know,” he says, his nails running down her bare back, his fingers slipping into the back of the open waistband of her jeans, “If you ever try to get naked while I’m on the phone with my brother, I’m probably going to _die,_ so consider that next time, please.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, like she’s really considering it. “Let’s see how well your _plans_ go tonight, and I’ll think about it.” 

He laughs, leaning in to press his lips to her neck. “I think we were right about _here,”_ he whispers, biting at a spot right above her collarbone. 

Her fingers slide up into his hair and she holds him there for a minute before pulling back. 

“Jay.” Her voice is rough, _needy_ in a way he’s never heard it. “I think we’ve been _right about here_ long enough,” she says, her fingers trailing down to press against his shoulders, shifting her weight in his lap. 

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, his hands moving to grip her hips again. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Like a whole month’s worth.” 

“You make a good point,” he says, shifting his grip to her thighs and standing quickly. She lets out a surprised laugh, and he echos it against her neck, turning and pressing her back slowly against the mattress. He leans in to kiss her, and he really could do _just this_ for hours, because even though this does feel like it’s been building for too long, he hasn’t gotten to spend enough time just learning her body, her reactions, like this. 

But she moans and arches against him as his fingers trail down her sides, and he grins against her lips. 

He can learn other things first, happily. They’ll have time to catch up later. 

——————————

She thought she knew what she was getting herself into yesterday as she’d watched Kristen change her plane ticket for a day earlier, as she’d tossed clothes in her suitcase, and all through a last dinner and drinks with a few FBI people. When she’d woken up before dawn this morning, her stomach had been lit with butterflies, nerves and excitement and _need_ coursing through her all the way to the airport _._

The delayed flight and the lost luggage, hours at the district, his hands and lips against her body in the stairwell, in his truck, in the Molly’s hallway had all been torture. 

She knows now, as his lips trail down her stomach, and his stubble rasps her skin as his fingers hook into her jeans and shimmy them down her legs, that she had absolutely no clue what she was getting herself into. 

Too-short makeouts in her hotel room and flirty, promising FaceTime calls hadn’t prepared her for how badly she needs him, how desperately she _wants_ him. 

Her jeans hit the floor and it’s like a switch flips and tension fills the air. 

Any tiny part of her that thought she could hold out, that could have tried to play it cool, evaporates into thin air as she watches him step out of his own jeans. 

She locks eyes with him and drags her fingers down her stomach, and she’s just about to push her panties down when his voice stops her. 

“Hailey.” His voice is low, and she thinks of all the times she heard it sound just like that against her ear, filling her hotel room over a tinny speaker, and how she’d wanted to feel it against her skin. 

And now she can, and he’s looking at her like that’s all he wants, too. Except, he always finds some way to surprise her. 

“I said you had a good point,” he continues. His hands skim up her thighs, his fingers brushing over hers at the edge of her panties. “I _didn’t_ say I agreed. I never want you to have to rush, remember?” 

She bites her lip, an early morning FaceTime call from just a few days ago running through her mind. “All the best things are nice and slow,” she whispers, running her fingers up his arms.

He nods, his thumbs running over her hips. He looks like he wants to say something else, and she tries to ready herself for it, for more teasing, more _waiting._

But she isn’t ready, because he just lowers his head, his eyes on hers the whole time, and presses his lips against her over the black cotton of her panties. 

She tries to stifle it, but a surprised little gasp eeks out, and she finally gets to feel the rush of his breath against her inner thigh as he laughs. It doesn’t last long, though, and his warm mouth is back against her again, firm and insistent against the fabric separating them. 

His fingers press under the fabric, and she raises her hips, pressing herself closer against his mouth until he finally, _finally,_ slips the fabric down her body and off. His hands are gentle on her thighs as he pulls her back towards his mouth, and she has just a moment to think about how he’s still being _so_ careful with her, _easy_ with her still-healing body, before his mouth is against her again. 

And then, for the first time in weeks, she doesn’t think at all. She doesn’t overthink or focus on anything other than exactly what’s happening at the moment. She doesn’t think about anything but the way his mouth moves against her, confident and eager, but not rushed. 

She lets her fingers thread through his short hair, guiding his mouth exactly where she needs it as she lets her body give in to the motion and her hips roll up against him. She arches her back as his lips find her clit, and a tiny twinge of pain surges through her. She can feel her body tense, and he must too, because his tongue stills, and he glances up at her. 

“Hailey,” he whispers, his hand running back and forth over her hip, soothing. 

She shakes her head, running her nails through his hair. “I guess the ribs are _getting_ better, but I’m not _perfect,”_ she says. 

“Coulda fooled me.” His voice is quiet, his lips brushing warm against her, slowly moving up her body, dragging over her stomach, mouthing at her nipple, sliding up her neck. She kisses him as his lips find hers, biting at his bottom lip. 

He pulls back, a dangerous smirk on his lips, and she knows she’s in trouble. 

“I did some more medical research for you the other day,” he says casually, his hands tracing down her sides slowly, gently wrapping his arms around her. 

_“Oh?”_

He nods, his mouth working over her neck again, distracting her just enough that when he pulls her against him and rolls so she’s on top of him, she barely registers the shock as she shifts against him. 

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, smiling against her neck. “Apparently, sitting up is less painful for bruised ribs. Gravity and breathing, etc., etc. It’s all very scientific, I won’t bore you,” he says. 

“Yeah, sure,” she laughs. 

“You could try it if you wanted.” His teeth graze her neck, and she smirks, pressing her palms against his chest and leveraging herself up so she’s straddling him. She rocks down against him and his hands run up her thighs. She can feel a ragged breath shudder out of him under her hands. 

“Like this?” She asks, grinding down against the fabric of his boxer briefs. 

He’s slow to respond, and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “I think, um,” he starts, and she watches his eyes close as she circles her hips slowly again. “Scientifically speaking, you’re supposed to be a little higher up, at first.” 

“Oh?” She edges up his body, so she’s straddling his waist, and his fingers trail up her inner thighs slowly. 

He nods, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “You know, _science,”_ he says, and she just laughs, leaning down to kiss him, taking his lower lip between her teeth. 

_“Okay,_ Dr. Google,” she whispers, sitting back up. And honestly? She’s pretty sure he’s right, there’s probably some sound logic there because there _is_ less pressure on her ribs like this. They feel 90% better than they did, but she’s still not 100%. 

But the way he's looking at her, the way his hands are gliding up her thighs slowly, with a reverence she's never felt, she feels like she could do anything, like she _wants_ to do anything. 

It's a heady, sexy feeling, and it's what makes her shift her body so she's moving up his chest. The smirk that lifts the corner of his lips is lethal, and the memory of his mouth on her is nearly enough to undo her already. 

“You sure?” She asks, shifting and holding her body weight higher over him, hovering just over his chin. 

_“Hailey,_ please, it's almost all I've thought about for weeks,” he whispers. His hands bracket her hips, and she watches him drag his lower lip between his teeth. 

_“Almost?”_

“I mean,” he starts, “I have to accomplish _some_ other things throughout the day, I can't just think about--”

“Jay,” she whispers, tugging at his hair slightly. He shuts up, and she leans forward, gripping the headboard lightly. “I don't want you to think anymore.”

She shifts and slides up, lowering herself over his mouth slowly. She can feel him grin against her, his lips already moving. 

It's overwhelming immediately, and she can't stop the gasp that spills from her. His hands trail up over her to support her back, and she feels steady enough to let go of the headboard, tightening her grip on his hair just slightly and moving against his mouth. 

She grinds down against him slowly, and she can feel that he's letting her call the shots like this, letting her set the pace, control her movements, His hands feel calm and steady against her back, such a contrast to the way her heart is racing and his mouth is moving, insistent and so, _so_ good. 

And he was right, this _is_ less painful. She can move freely enough, and his mouth is relentless enough that by the time she realizes how close she is, his mouth is on her clit, a moan is falling from her lips, and she's shaking apart against his lips, so quick she couldn't have stopped it if she'd wanted to. 

Her grip tightens in his hair as she holds him exactly where she needs him as she comes apart, and his fingers trail down to her hips, digging in, desperate, as her thighs tense and finally relax around him. 

Her fingers loosen in his hair, his change to soothing touches on her hips, and his tongue runs over her gently until she's gasping out an overwhelmed little laugh and pulling away. His lips press a kiss to her inner thigh as she moves, trying to slide back down his body as elegantly as possible on shaky limbs. 

She’s not entirely sure what to do with herself once she makes her way back down his body, but his hands fall to her hips and pull her back against him, straddling his hips. Her fingers run down his chest, and he smirks at her when she finally looks back up at him. 

“Well, welcome home, I guess,” he says, and she can't stop the laugh that bubbles from her chest. 

_“I guess,”_ she laughs, dragging her nails back up his chest so she can angle his chin down and lean forward to kiss him slowly. His lips are slick and by the time she pulls back, she can taste herself on his tongue and feel him hard against her. 

She grins, slow and easy, against his lips. “You gonna welcome me back just like that every time I leave and come back?”

_“Anytime_ you want, Hailey,” he whispers. “Wanna leave the room and come back in and test that theory?” He raises his eyebrows and she laughs, lifting a leg as though she's about to get up and leave. 

His palm slides up her thigh, pulling her back down, and he's grinning as their lips meet again. 

“Who said I’m actually ever gonna let you leave again? No-fly list, remember?”

“Mmm,” she nods. “Sounds familiar.” She sits back up, his hands find her hips again, and she runs her hands down his chest, nails dragging over his abs, and she watches him close his eyes as her fingers slip under the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

He lets out a long exhale, his hips shifting slightly. 

She grins. “Did you think about me while I was gone, Jay?”

His eyes open, narrowing at her slightly. “Every second, you know I did.”

Her palm moves and presses down against him, his cock hard under her hand. His eyes flutter closed again on a quiet groan. “Did you think about me doing this?”

She leans forward and presses her lips to the hard planes of his abs, her tongue dragging down to his waistband. He says her name quietly, more gravel than she's ever heard in his voice, and she lets that urge her on to push the material from his body and down his thighs. 

His hips raise as she pushes his boxer briefs down, and she lets her lips graze the tip of his cock as it appears, the sound of the material hitting the floor mixing with his voice.

_“Hailey,”_ he says again, just as gravelly but more desperate now. 

She glances up at him, her lips just brushing over his cock. “Hmm?” The sound falls from her lips and she watches him close his eyes for just a second as her breath ghosts over him. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, his fingers running up her back. “Please.” 

She shifts her body, watching the muscles in his core shift and ripple as he sits up, his chest pressing against hers and her fingers skimming his sides. 

“You okay?” She asks when he’s just quiet for a moment watching her. 

He nods and she smiles as he leans in and presses his lips to her shoulder, trailing open-mouthed kisses up along her neck. “I’m probably an idiot, stopping you from what you were about to do. But god, Hailey, I just _want you.”_

She smiles, shifting against him, sighing as he bites at her neck when she slides along his hard cock. 

“I’m right here,” she whispers. 

“You’re not in a different city?” He asks teasingly, his fingers trailing down her arm.

She shakes her head. 

“You’re not in an empty bed, alone in a hotel room?” He shifts so his legs are bent, supporting her back a little. 

She laughs quietly. “I hope not, no.”

“I’m not gonna wake up in five minutes, wanting you?” His voice is quieter, some of the teasing gone, and she runs her hand down his cheek. 

“In _five minutes?_ No,” she whispers. “But you better keep waking up wanting me.” 

He grins. “Don’t think that’ll be a problem.” 

She grinds her hips down against him again, shuddering out a gasp as he presses up against her at the same time. 

There’s nothing separating them now. Not distance, or any fears that kept them apart before, or a stitch of fabric between their bodies, and that same calm, _sure_ feeling that she’d felt with him on the bridge last weekend, on FaceTime with him weeks ago in the same spot, washes over her. 

“Jay,” she whispers. “I’m here. I’m with you _.”_

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile, a tiny hint of disbelief, of _too good to be true,_ she’s seen before edging into his features. He shifts, raising his hips again, the tip of his cock sliding against her clit, and she bites her lip. 

He’s gonna wreck her.

“You’re home,” he says, like it finally feels real. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. She nods at his smile, closing her eyes and leaning in to kiss him. She lifts up slightly, sinking back down slowly until just the tip of his cock is inside her. 

She’s overwhelmed immediately again, and she moans into the kiss, swallowing his echoing sound as his hands find her hips and his fingers dig in. She sinks all the way down slowly and then finally pulls back, opening her eyes. 

He’s watching her as her eyes open, and she can’t stop the quiet little laugh that bubbles out of her. 

“Oof, _really_ mean time to laugh,” he says, but his own laugh laces the edges of the words, and he leans in to press his lips to her cheek slowly, over her dimple. Her stomach flips a little at the sweet gesture, but she knows she shouldn’t be surprised at this point. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” she laughs, running her fingers up the back of his neck and through his hair. “It’s just…” She trails off, because there aren’t words for it, for the way the anticipation that had been building in her body for weeks, longer maybe, feels at once _finally_ resolved, but at the same time, like it’ll never end, like she’ll never get enough. 

“I know,” he whispers, his hands trailing up to her waist. “Ribs okay?” 

She nods, tugging at the short strands of his hair and pulling him in to kiss her, dragging his lower lip between her teeth again as she rolls her hips slowly. His nails drag up her back and his fingers tangle in her hair, holding her against him. 

She lifts up and lowers herself back down slowly, once, twice, listening to the quick, shuddery breath he lets out. She can feel he’s holding back again, and she drags her nails down his back, more bite than before. 

“Hey,” she murmurs, brushing her lips over his cheek. “Look at me.” 

She pulls back, and his eyes find hers, and she’s pretty sure she expected him to look gorgeous, cocky, confident. 

He’s gorgeous underneath her, of course, and everything else she expected, but he also looks completely open, vulnerable in a way she’s rarely seen from him. 

_“God,_ Hailey,” he whispers, and if it somehow wasn't before, it's completely over for her at that point. 

“I know,” she whispers, running her thumb across his bottom lip and leaning in to kiss him. “I know.” 

She rolls her hips slowly, grinning against his lips as his fingers wind tighter through her hair. 

She moves against him, swallowing a sigh as she presses her lips to his neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses up to bite at his earlobe quickly. 

“You know,” she whispers, grinding down against him. “I’m not gonna break, Jay. Not _everything_ has to be nice and slow.” 

_“Oh?”_ His smile lifts at the corner like he wants to laugh at her, but his hand in her hair just guides her lips back to his, his mouth swallowing the moan he surprises out of her as he thrusts up into her. 

She drags her nails up through his hair as they kiss and move against each other, grinning as he groans against her. His hands leave her hair and trail down her waist, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her still against him as he moves. 

His breath is shallow against her cheek and he lets out a quick gasp as her nails scratch down his neck to his chest, resting her palms against his warm skin and pressing him back.

His grin is lethal, distracting, as his back hits the mattress, his grip on her hips tightening as she moves against him quicker, his hips meeting hers with each movement. 

She wants to watch his cocky, overwhelmed grin forever, but she can't help but close her eyes, lose herself in the movement of their bodies, work herself toward falling over the edge again like she's leaping. 

One of his hands stays grounded on her hip as he grinds up into her, and his other skates over to where their bodies are joined, his thumb brushing against her clit slowly. 

Her eyes open immediately and her teeth chew at her bottom lip as she watches him below her. 

His thumb circles her clit faster and she can't stop the shaky gasp it pulls out of her, the way her entire body feels electrified under his gaze. 

“Hailey,” he whispers, his voice rough in a way she wants to memorize. “Can you come again? Let me watch you fall apart just like this?”

She nods, pressing a palm to his chest and reaching down to guide his thumb against her more firmly, right where she needs it. 

She closes her eyes on his smile, braces herself against his chest, and moves, circling her hips. She thinks about being 800 miles away and _needing_ this, but not being able to put a name to it, about _wanting_ him but not knowing how badly. She thinks about his voice in her ear from miles away, talking about falling apart; his voice now, inches away, moaning underneath her as his hips snap up to meet hers and his fingers bring her closer, quicker than she can imagine, closer just like his voice did for weeks. 

She thinks about his smile over FaceTime, his grin against her lips, his overwhelmed, overwhelming smile when she'd closed her eyes a moment ago. 

And then she doesn't think at all. She doesn't focus on anything but the way her body tenses, tightens, then finally relaxes as she falls apart again, and the way his fingers tighten against her hip. His thumb slows, gentles, and finally stills against her as he soothes her through it and she finally opens her eyes. 

It was all overwhelming: the slow, slow buildup, the easy, quick tension release. But none of it, not a moment, has been more overwhelming than when her eyes open and he's just watching her, his thumb brushing her hip gently now, his pupils blown wide like he’s just holding on. 

“God, Hailey,” he whispers again, and she'll never be able to hear the words fall from his lips without thinking of this. She's leaning forward, pressing toward his lips before she's even fully come back to herself, and he meets her halfway, biting at her bottom lip and drawing her in as her mouth opens under his. 

His finger drag slick across her stomach and his palm wraps around her lower back as he pushes forward and sits up so they're chest to chest. She feels pliant, sated in the best way, but his body is still tense underneath her, hard inside her, and she knows this is her chance to watch _him_ fall apart, to finally watch him relax in a way she's never fully seen from him. 

“Jay, _please,”_ she whispers against his lips, and she isn't entirely sure what she's asking for, it all feels like a lot, and like she could want everything if she thought about it long enough. 

But he just smiles and watches her for a quick moment. “You're so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, and if she hadn't just, the rasp in his voice, the heat in his gaze, could make her lose herself again. 

She can't respond, and he doesn't say anything after that, just drags his teeth against her neck and lets out noises she wants to memorize, sounds she knows she'll hear again and again, no matter what distance might pull them apart temporarily in the future. 

She drags her nails up his back and presses her chest against his as he moves, abs tensing against her as he moves into her fast, faster, his breath heavy against her skin. 

His hand runs up her back to tangle in her hair again, and she thinks he'll bury his face into her neck as he leans forward. But his lips find her ear, his voice needy, wanting, and she shivers, so past overwhelmed she can barely handle it. 

“Look at me, baby.”

It's an endearment she's heard before, sweet on his tongue, meant to pull her back to him. And as she pulls back just slightly so their eyes can meet, it does, it pulls them together in a way that feels as new as the movement of his body against her. 

She runs her thumb across his bottom lip, just for some other way to ground herself, to touch him, and he bites at the pad of her thumb gently. His hips are still quick, frantic against her, her heart still feels like it wants to beat out of her chest, and his against it, but everything else, every moment slows down around them as they just watch each other. 

His body tenses underneath her and she leans in, swallowing his groan as he finally comes apart against her, his hips frantic before they slowly still beneath her. His fingers press against the back of her neck, massaging pressure points as she feels him fall into the kiss slowly, as time at once speeds up again and totally stops around them, like they're the only two time exists for. 

She feels him shudder out a breath against her lips and she pulls back slowly, trailing her lips across his cheek before she tears herself away. 

“Hi,” he whispers, and something about the way it feels both familiar and brand new now makes her laugh, makes her close her eyes if only for the chance to find him again like this a moment later. 

“Hi,” she smiles, laughter still forming her words, as he shakes his head slowly, that slow grin gracing his lips. “What?”

His grin just grows. “Nothing,” he whispers. “It's just… everything.”

“I know,” she laughs, leaning in to press her lips to his shoulder, over a healing bullet wound that still haunts her, dragging against a constellation of freckles. 

He shifts slightly underneath her, slipping out finally, and she breathes out a slow, deep breath against his skin. 

His fingers trace over her, brushing over sweat-slick skin at the back of her neck and his lips press against her forehead, smoothing over where stitches had crossed her hairline just days before. 

“So,” he whispers, and something sounds different in the timbre of his voice, a catch she wants to hold onto. “Worth coming home for?”

She gasps out a surprised little noise, maybe a laugh, drawing back to run her thumbs over his collarbone, her palms warm on his chest. 

“You're joking, right?” 

His lips curve in a smirk, and he shrugs, cocky, sure, but he just stares, watching, waiting for her reaction. 

She just nods, leaning in to bite at his smirk. “Every single part. I'd leave again just to get to come back to you,” she says quietly. It feels like too much, a little too mushy, but he just grins. She lets him run his hands gently down her back and pull her back against the mattress with him, moving so they're on their sides facing each other. Her ribs only protest a little. 

“Let's not get crazy,” he laughs, shifting to press his lips to her neck, his legs tangling with hers. “No one’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Mmm,” she agrees, closing her eyes as his lips meet her neck again. It feels like reconnecting, like coming home and never wanting to leave. 

She presses her fingers to his jaw and guides his lips back to hers, nipping at him as his mouth opens against hers slowly. She smiles against his lips and draws her fingers down over his strong shoulders. 

He presses against her at the drag of her nails, and she wants to be fully healed, she wants to pull him over on top of her, let herself learn what his strong body feels like over her when he's pressing against her for pleasure more than protection. 

His lips press against her earlobe, the slightest bite, and she knows it'll be good, it'll be worth every second of the wait to be healed, just like the last month has been. It still feels like time has stopped around them, like it's just them and inches of distance between their bodies, no longer miles, and nothing else to interrupt them as they find new ways to learn each other’s bodies, to know one another. 

——————————

He’s just about to shift against her, rock his hips, pick things up a notch again when time comes creeping back in all at once. 

A buzzing sounds behind them, the doorbell chimes downstairs, and his lips stutter against her neck. 

“Expecting someone?” He asks, pulling back and trying to keep the ache out of his voice. “Housekeeping, maybe?” 

He grins as she rolls her eyes affectionately, shifting over his body for her phone, straddling his waist as she swipes it open. 

His palm runs up and down her thigh, and he can't imagine a time where he won't _have_ to be touching her. 

“Ooh, my luggage,” she says, turning the phone to show him the doorbell camera. “Guess I missed their call.”

“I guess you were a little preoccupied,” he shrugs. 

“Ehhh,” she grins, leaning in to kiss him once more, her hair falling in his face. He brushes it back behind her ear and pulls her in again, kissing her slowly until she pulls back. 

“Luggage,” she mumbles, running a hand through her hair. 

_“Jay,”_ he grins, winking as she rolls her eyes and moves slowly off his body, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

She stands, stretching, and he lets himself just watch her for a moment before sitting up himself. 

“You don't have to get up,” she says, turning to watch him over her shoulder. “I was gonna come back up here.”

“Tempting as that is,” he says, reaching out to run a hand over her bare hip, “I think I owe you a date, now that you're home.”

She bites her lip and he watches a smile slowly make its way across her face, dimpling her cheek in a way that immediately makes him smile too. 

“Okay,” she whispers. 

He watches her walk over to her dresser and rummage through for a moment before stepping into black panties that are lacier, sheerer than he’d pulled off her a while ago. 

“Ooh,” he grins, raising an eyebrow as she glances over at him. “I get to see the sexy lingerie now?”

She rolls her eyes again. _“Excuse me,”_ she says, reaching down to pick up his boxer briefs, tossing them directly at his head. “Anything is sexy if I’m wearing it.” 

He smiles, standing up to step into his boxers, the heat of her gaze dragging over his body and making him move slower than he normally would. 

“That’s _definitely_ true,” he says, reaching for his jeans. She makes a sharp noise of disappointment, and he looks up, laughing. 

“That’s _definitely_ not necessary,” she says, gesturing down to his jeans. “I’m gonna have to come back up here and get ready, no need to cover all that up.” 

He just nods, draping the jeans over the edge of the bed. “You do realize I _am_ gonna have to put on pants for dinner, right?”

She shrugs. “That’s a future Hailey problem.” She just smirks and walks out of the room, completely naked except for the black lace.

“Completely wrecked,” he calls, heading out the door. She’s at the bottom of the stairs when he turns the corner, pulling her arms through his button-down sleeve, working a few of the middle buttons closed before reaching out to toss him his black tee. 

“You can borrow this,” she grins as he catches it. 

He just shakes his head, shrugging the shirt on and reaching out to pull at the olive fabric brushing her thighs. 

“Maybe I’ll let you have this one back later.” 

He laughs, reaching out to undo the top button, pulling her closer. He brushes his lips against her slowly, just the briefest hint of a touch, smiling as she closes her eyes and leans into it. He summons all of his willpower and pulls back, smirking as she frowns. “You can’t steal _all_ my clothes, Hailey.” 

He uses the tiny distraction to step back toward her door, unlocking it and pulling it open, wheeling in her suitcase before she can protest. He gestures upstairs and she nods, her eyes on him as he sets off upstairs.

“You know,” she calls, her voice reaching him as he sets the suitcase down on the top step. “Normally, I’d protest, because I can do that myself, but I like watching you lift heavy things.” 

By the time he makes it back downstairs, she’s sitting on the kitchen counter, the fabric of his shirt barely grazing her thighs now. 

“You know,” he mimics, “you’re not making a very good case for actually leaving this house for dinner.” He runs his hands up her thighs as he reaches her, and she grins, leaning back before he can kiss her.

“I was thinking about that, actually,” she says, intertwining their fingers together on her thighs. “And here’s my alternate plan. Getting dressed seems like a real waste of time. It’ll just be a _lot_ of undressing later, and we’ve already done that once today. And maybe it’s not _exactly_ the same, but Bartoli’s delivers, and it’s not _your_ couch, but we know my couch is comfier anyway.” 

He’s smiling as he leans in. “It’s a date.” 

Her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, and he figures pizza can wait a few more minutes at least.

——————————

She manages to pull away long enough to order pizza, and she only protests a little when he drags his lips from her neck to run upstairs and pull on jeans before answering the door a little while later. 

“I could’ve gotten the door,” she calls as he makes his way back to the kitchen with pizza in hand. 

He just lets his eyes linger on her legs and run slowly up her body. “That’s the start to _porn,_ Hailey,” he laughs.

She shrugs, leering at him as he tracks a familiar path around her kitchen, getting plates and napkins. “Go outside and ring the doorbell, then,” she tosses over her shoulder, opening the fridge. 

“Mmm, maybe later.” He presses a kiss to her cheek as he walks by toward the living room with plates heavy with the right kind of pizza, and she reaches into the basically empty fridge for a couple of bottles of water before trailing behind him. 

He’s a pretty familiar sight in her living room, but she’s never seen him like this, strong quads on display, hair pulled messy in the back. She’ll probably have to suggest a few month’s worth of alternate at-home dates just to get her fill of the way he moves so easily here, like this.

She presses the cold water to his thigh as she settles next to him. “Hope you weren’t expecting beer, there’s literally water and a jar of pickles in the fridge right now.” 

He presses his lips to her jaw, and it’s a good enough answer for her. 

“Now, if there’s baseball on, this will be the _perfect_ date,” he teases, drawing her legs across his lap as he hands her a plate. 

(The pizza tastes like _home,_ and he might’ve been joking, but it _is_ a perfect date, as far as she’s concerned.)

——————————

He runs out to his truck for his phone charger a while later as she tosses their plates and puts the pizza away, and by the time he makes his way back downstairs after plugging in his phone, she’s standing in front of the window in the living room, looking out at the night sky. 

“What,” she tosses over her shoulder as he comes closer, “got a hot girl to FaceTime later?”

She grins as he brushes her hair over her shoulder, pressing his lips to her neck slowly. 

“Not unless you want to FaceTime me from six inches away, because that’s about as far as I plan to let you get,” he says. 

“Mmm, noted,” she whispers, watching the wind whip through the trees out the window. 

“Not exactly the New York City skyline,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist. She can just make out their reflection in the glass, the way his words were spoken against her temple, his lips cool against her skin. 

She shakes her head. She’s pretty sure she’ll miss the views from high up in the city the most, but nothing like she missed home while she was gone. 

And she knows, now, for sure.

_Home_ isn't Chicago, or the district, or deep-dish pizza or the wind. 

_Home_ is Jay, and the way he's holding her, safe and strong and _good,_ while all these things race through her mind.

She turns in his arms, leaning up to press her lips to his. She doesn’t need to look out the window to know she’s home. 

“No,” she whispers. “It’s better. It’s home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First -- I hope the ending feels worth it for the wait and the buildup. I hope it feels like Hailey got her welcome home and the happiness she deserves, home, with Jay. I was emotional writing it, and I hope a tiny bit of that comes through for you, too.
> 
> Second -- Thank you, thank you, thank you. I cannot even describe how overwhelming the support and response to this fic has been. Bigger than anything I've ever experienced in all my time in fandom. It means the world, every kudos, comment, Twitter mention, Tumblr message, etc. You have no idea. I hope you stick with me through whatever comes next. 
> 
> The biggest thank you to PuckLuck28 for volunteering right out of the gate to beta this. I don't think either of us knew it would be this long, and I appreciate you so much for making these words better.
> 
> And the biggest, mushiest shoutout to my Upstead discord girls. I know we've yelled about this already, but I cannot thank you all enough for the encouragement and LAUGHS and absolutely amazing friendship. It means the world, and I'm glad this fandom, and this fic, brought me all of you. Thanks for making sure I will never look at a pickle, a piggy bank, or literally any reference to eating the same way ever again. 
> 
> There are a million more thank yous I could share, but I'm not a crier, and I've already done it once today, writing those final words. So, just. 
> 
> This is the longest thing I have ever written, the most well-received, and by far the best experience I've had in fandom, and that's all in large part to you all. Thank you, all of you.


	23. epilogue: in my own simple way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! If you follow me on Tumblr, this probably isn't new. I posted this little additional scene that works as a sweet epilogue a while back, but it never made it over here. I thought it should be included. 
> 
> If you follow me on Tumblr and Twitter @fromiftowhen, I've also posted a playlist for the fic and RTed some really beautiful art/mood boards people have been nice enough to share with me.

_What I'm trying to say  
In my own simple way  
Is I want you to be my last first kiss  
\-- Last First Kiss (Ron Pope)_

When he wakes up, the room is dim, the first hints of sunrise just peeking in through the curtains. The other side of Hailey’s bed is empty and cool to the touch as he runs his arm over the sheets. 

“Hailey?” His voice sounds rough, half-asleep to his own ears, and he clears his throat and leans up on his elbow as footsteps fall into the room, her eyes finding him immediately. 

“Sorry,” she whispers, heading over to put a few things in her top dresser drawer. She leaves a bag on the dresser as she turns back to him. “Couldn’t sleep, figured I’d finish the mountain of laundry I brought back.” 

He nods, watching her bare legs make their way over to the bed until he can just reach his fingers out to trail over the hem of his button-down brushing her thighs. “Y’know, _really_ trying not to take it personally that you’re basically never here when I wake up.” 

“I’ve been home like a _week_ , Jay,” she grins, sliding a knee on the mattress next to him. “And if I remember correctly, _I_ woke you up in this very bed yesterday morning.” 

“And don’t think I’ll ever forget that,” he says, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Just saying, pretty sure I saw you in bed more on FaceTime than I have in person.” He lets his fingers drag up her thigh slowly, watching her bite her lip as his nails trail across her skin.

“We spent all day yesterday in bed, and all last weekend, and every night in between… so _I’m_ pretty sure your math is wrong,” she whispers, pressing her other knee onto the bed next to him. 

“Maybe,” he whispers, grinning at her as her eyes trail down his bare chest. His palms slide up her thighs to pull her closer. “But just to be safe, you should come back over here.”

The noise she makes as he drags her into his lap almost feels worth the weeks they were apart. And the quiet moan she lets out against his lips is still new, exciting, but feels familiar all at once. 

Her lips meet his, and he swallows the noise, kissing her slowly as their legs tangle, and his hands slide up her body. In the time she’s been home, they’ve done very little but work and _this,_ learning each other in a new way. And if he’d gotten to know her in a new way while she was in New York, if she’d felt like _home_ to himeven while she was 800 miles away, it’s nothing to how she feels now. 

She’s _home,_ and laughter, and early mornings in bed, silent words whispered against cool skin and the way his heart keeps pace with hers as their bodies find each other easily in the dim light. 

“So, if your laundry’s done, your suitcase is totally empty now, right?” He asks, his lips barely leaving hers.

Her laughter is warm against his skin, eyes bright as she nods her head. “Yeah…” 

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Don’t worry if you can’t find it in a few days. You won’t need it anytime soon.” 

She laughs again and smiles against him as he runs a hand over her body to slip between the buttons of her shirt. He lets his fingers trail down her back, a tiny bite to his touch as she arches against him. 

He’s felt her body heal a little more every night he’s spent in her bed. He’s run his fingers over every inch of her skin, learned her tells and the timbre of her voice in the dark. He’s pressed his lips to disappearing bruises, sucked tiny, hidden marks of his own into her skin in desperate, frenzied moments. 

Every little way he learns her is their first, his last, and he tries to spell it out against her skin every time -- the way he knows she’s his last first everything, the way he’s going to savor it all. The way she’s his girl, the way she’s _home_ for him -- the way he wants to always be _home_ for her.

The way he knows he’s loved her in different ways for so long; from inches away, across miles apart. Quietly, his fingers tapping out text messages for weeks, his hands against her skin now. Loudly, his voice rising in disagreements over their years as just partners, his lips against her ear now as they find an easy rhythm. 

“Hey,” he whispers, drawing back slightly, shifting to brush her hair back behind her ear. He lets his thumb stroke her cheek as she opens her eyes slowly. “I’ve told you how I’m kinda happy you’re home, right?” 

“Maybe a few times, a few different ways.”

“Mmm, good.” He nods, biting at her lower lip as she leans back in. “Just so we’re on the same page.” 

And he knows they are. 

That could be it, the end of their coherent words for long minutes as they greet the morning together. Her lips slide down his jaw, over the stubble that leaves her pale skin red, and he could be good just like this. There are words he wants to say, but he knows they have time. There will be a million more mornings like this, mornings that were all he wanted over FaceTime calls for weeks on end. 

But she pulls back and bites at her lip a little, and he knows this tell best of all. There’s something else.

She glances back to her dresser, and he sees the edge of the bag she’d left there before she’d climbed back in bed with him. 

“There _was_ one thing left in my suitcase. I brought you a souvenir.”

He could be cheesy. He could tell her he knows she did, that she’s here, with him. That she’s all he needs to remember the trip, their time apart. 

But he just raises an eyebrow. “I like gifts.” 

She rolls her eyes and shifts off his body. He draws a hand down her back as she grimaces ever so slightly, tiny remnants of pain showing themselves when she makes quick movements. 

She’s at her dresser before he can make a move to go with her. She turns around as he sits up, her lower lip between her teeth still, and he just watches her. She’s nervous, and maybe that should be his first clue. “I was gonna wait, save this,” she says, slowly, and then shakes her head. “But I don’t want to anymore.”

He just nods, watching her turn back toward her dresser again, plastic rustling beneath her fingers for a moment as she pulls something out of the bag. 

“This is for you,” she says quietly. He watches her move, and it’s not until she’s slipping his button-down off her shoulders, her skin bare beneath, that he realizes the item she pulled out of the bag is fabric. He’s distracted, immediately, by the ever-rising sun throwing shadows across her skin. But something about the way her voice trips over her next words draws his attention immediately.

“This is for you,” she says again, just as quiet. “But it’s kinda for me, too.” He watches her pull the white t-shirt over her head, her hair falling down her back as she pulls it free again. He can see her fingers smooth over the fabric in the seconds before she turns around, and then she’s all he can see. 

_Someone I love went to NYC and all I got was this stupid t-shirt._

It comes back in a rush -- the tacky souvenir shop, her teasing, his easy, automatic words. Almost a confession, one he hadn’t known was coming. One they hadn’t talked about since.

The room is quiet, but he’s pretty sure he can hear his own heart racing. She’s still worrying her bottom lip, and he can tell just by looking that his heart is matching hers beat for beat. 

“Hailey…” he starts, but she shakes her head. 

“It’s cheesy, I know,” she says, stepping back toward the edge of the bed. “And you don’t have to say anything.” 

It’s his turn to shake his head. He reaches out for her, his fingers tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling her back into his orbit. “If the shirt is for me, why are you wearing it? Can’t even _give_ me the shirt before stealing it?” 

She grins slowly, settling back onto his lap easily. “I said the shirt was for me, too.” Her voice is quiet but steady, warm against his skin and not tinny over a phone line. “Someone _I love_ went to New York City. I know, because I invited him there.” 

He nods quietly, running his fingers across the words on the shirt. She closes her eyes as his fingers trace the _love_ printed right over her chest. 

He’s smiling as she opens her eyes and continues. “The shirt is for you too, you know. You get to take it off.” 

He nods again, dragging his fingers down the words to the hem, his fingers twisting in the fabric. He inches the shirt up her body, watching her face the entire time.

“Someone I love went to New York City too,” he whispers, pulling the shirt up and off her body slowly. “But I got way more than a stupid shirt.” 

She smiles as the fabric falls to the bed beside them, and he guides her to him with a hand in her hair. 

When their lips meet, it feels familiar, like coming home, for good, forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are the best love you can share.


End file.
